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A  LONE  S*TAR  BO-PEEP 


OTHER  TALES 


TEXAN  RANCH  LIFE 


BY 

HOWARD  SEELY 


NEW  YORK: 
W.  L.  MERSHON  &  CO. 

1885. 


COPYRIGHT,  1885, 

BY 
E.    H.    SEELY,   JR. 


All  Rights  Reserved. 


W.  L.  MERSHON  &  Co., 

Printers,  Electrotypers  and  Binders, 
RAHWAY,  N.  J. 


TO 

ANDREW  F.  UNDERHILL, 

IN  TESTIMONY 

OF 

A  FRIENDSHIP  OF  YEARS. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP,          .           .           .  i 

II.  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA,       ...  75 

III.  THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO,        .           .           .  m 

IV.  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK,       .           .           .141 
V.  A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS,        .           .           .  175 

VI.  A  WANDERING  MELIBCEUS,           .           .           .  204 

VII.  A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN,          ....  235 

VIII.  THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY.       .           .  253 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 


I. 

DAY  was  just  breaking  on  the  Chadbourne 
Trail.  The  pale  mists,  surprised  by  rosy  Au- 
rora, were  scampering  in  hurried  dishabille  across 
its  wavering  outline,  tearing  their  trailing  night- 
robes  upon  the  thorny  mesquites  and  scatter- 
ing filmy  draperies  in  its  live  oak  aisles.  A 
few  faint  stars,  through  fleecy  cloud-rifts,  still 
twinkled  tearfully,  and  but  a  moment  ago  the 
waning  moon,  that  had  languished  in  the  west- 
*  ern  heaven,  had  lain  a  pale  face  upon  the  slop- 
ing shoulder  of  a  great  divide  and  wearily  sunk 
to  rest  within  its  somber  bosom.  There  is  a 
dewy  freshness  in  the  air ;  a  strong,  damp, 
earthy  odor ;  then  on  the  wings  of  a  gentle 
breeze — fragrant  forerunner  of  morning — the 
scent  of  a  thousand  wild-flowers  swinging  their 


2  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

perfumed  censers  in  worship  of  the  coming 
sun. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  shadowy  vistas  of  the  dim 
shrubbery,  vague,  indistinct  forms  seem  moving. 
They  flit  to  and  fro  with  a  skulking  and  stealthy 
movement  ;  they  seem  alert,  uneasy,  restless — 
the  ghosts  of  incarnate  suspicion.  Suddenly 
they  are  off  in  a  body  with  a  precipitate  haste 
that  is  ludicrous  in  its  apparent  cowardice. 

Immediately  and  sharply  to  the  right  comes 
a  quick,  startled  sound  like  that  made  by  a 
stone  shaken  violently  in  some  metal  vessel. 
The  sounds  increase  and  seem  associated  with 
the  movement  of  some  impeded  and  lumbering 
animal.  An  oath  !  a  shot !  The  sulphurous 
suggestion  of  man  and  gunpowder!  While 
after  a  silence  more  apparent  from  the  recent 
explosion,  during  which  the  rising  orb  comes 
proudly  up  the  horizon,  a  large  pecan  motte, 
now  visible,  and  from  which  the  recent  disturb 
ances  have  proceeded,  resounds  with  shrieks 
and  barks,  as  if  all  Bedlam  were  let  loose — the 
impotent  cries  of  Texan  coyotes.  They  die 
away  down  the  wind.  The  silence  now  and  the 
sunlight  hold  sway. 

Within  the  still,  dim  precincts  of  this  motte, 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  3 

the  skeleton  of  a  denuded  cow-pen  stretches  its 
emaciate  length.  A  cooking-stove,  lidless, 
doorless,  broken-legged,  stares  with  uncompro- 
mising effrontery  at  the  encroaching  light. 
Garments  that  have  survived  their  usefulness, 
scattered  here  and  there,  like  uniforms  of  the 
fallen,  lend  their  additional  aid  to  the  general 
air  of  discomfiture.  Civilization  seems  to  have 
encountered  Nature  and  suffered  defeat.  Thus 
desolate,  since  a  remote  "  round-up,"  has  this 
live-stock  Andersonville  remained.  It  was  left 
for  Mr.  Faye  Howe  to  revisit  its  belligerent 
remindings  and  speculate  upon  its  analogies. 

I  am  not  over-confident  that  the  gentleman 
was  alive  to  these.  Mr.  Howe  was  out  of 
humor.  Mr.  Howe  was  sleepy.  The  languor 
of  disturbed  dreams  clouded  his  otherwise  acute 
perceptions.  At  the  precise  moment  that  he 
dawns  upon  the  reader's  consciousness,  his 
bearing  is  unobservant,  his  attitude  uncon- 
sidered.  The  details  of  his  bivouac  are  in  a 
sense  martial,  without  its  vigilance.  Enveloped 
in  his  .gray  blanket  and  with  his  head  in  the 
hollow  of  his  saddle,  he  appears  lost  in  the 
embraces  of  the  drowsy  god.  But  the  pres- 
ence of  his  recently  discharged  revolver,  and  at 


4  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

a  few  yards'  distance  the  already  stiffening  car- 
cass of  a  coyote  betray  evidences  of  recently 
aroused  energy.  The  only  object  at  present 
gifted  with  volition,  however,  seems  his  belled 
and  hoppled  light  sorrel — from  certain  "cold 
gravy "  resemblances  denominated  "  Oscar 
Wilde  " — Mr.  Howe's  remote  and  sarcastic  pro- 
test against  England's  sufficiently  recent  inflic- 
tion. Mr.  Faye  Howe  is  an  American,  and  does 
not  consider  his  country  or  its  government  a  nec- 
essarily dangerous  experiment.  He  is  as  yet 
serenely  unaware  that  he  can  derive  any  enlight- 
enment political  from  the  "other  side."  Mr. 
Faye  Howe  is  not  a  snob ;  he  is  not  a  toady. 
Mr.  Faye  Howe  is,  nevertheless,  between 
twenty-six  and  twenty-seven. 

For  the  next  hour  or  so  the  neighboring  soli- 
tude suffers  little  change.  The  hampered  mus- 
tang with  its  unmelodious  accompaniment  pur- 
sues the  ancient  and  equine  occupation  of 
Nebuchadnezzar  with  an  occasional  snort  of 
satisfaction.  A  peripatetic  chaparral-cock,  with 
the  unexplainable  weakness  of  that  bird  for 
morning  calls,  had  perched  upon  a  pinnacle  of 
the  neighboring  cow-pen,  and,  turning  his  wise 
head  upon  one  side,  speculated  for  some  min- 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  5 

utes  with  gratuitous  gravity  and  the  air  of  a 
puzzled  physician,  upon  the  laziness  of  his 
extemporized  patient ;  and  then  departed  upon 
his  customary  rounds.  In  the  meantime,  the 
beams  of  the  long  arisen  sun  shot  through  the 
branches  of  the  overhanging  pecans  and  heated 
the  blonde  head  of  the  sleeper  uncomfortably. 
He  turned  uneasily.  Later  several  acute 
twinges  made  him  conscious  that  he  was  an 
obstacle  to  a  caravan  of  pilgrim  ants,  which  held 
their  inflexible  line  of  march  across  his  recum- 
bent body.  He  rose  to  a  sitting  posture  with 
significant  haste.  Still  heavy  with  the  dews  of 
sleep,  Mr.  Howe  became  nevertheless  aware 
of  a  pattering,  clicking  sound,  made  by  suc- 
cessive objects  dropping  from  the  surrounding 
air.  Staggering  to  his  feet,  he  instinctively 
.  sought  the  carcass  of  the  dead  coyote.  It  was 
covered  with  the  already  present  and  constantly 
arriving  hosts  of  the  burying  beetle.  A  grim, 
flapping  shadow  intruded  itself  for  a  second 
upon  its  sun-steeped  outline.  He  raised  his 
eyes.  A  turkey-buzzard  with  gory  crest  looked 
down  in  ghoul-like  sedateness  from  a  limb 
above.  The  speedy  burial  service  of  Southern 
latitudes  was  already  in  progress. 


6  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

With  a  dejection  of  manner,  aggravated,  no 
doubt,  by  an  empty  stomach,  Howe  busied 
himself  in  the  preparation  of  a  primitive 
repast.  An  adjacent  pool  of  water,  of  which 
the  encircling  pecans  were  an  infallible  index, 
assisted  him  in  hasty  ablutions — somewhat  per- 
functory under  the  circumstances.  Refreshed 
by  these  sketchy  efforts,  he  rekindled  the  em- 
bers of  his  dying  fire,  cut  a  forked  stick  of  the 
mesquite,  and  toasted  some  strips  of  bacon 
from  a  piece  tied  up  in  a  sack  behind  his  saddle. 
The  odor  of  the  broiling  morsels  stimulated  an 
appetite  already  whetted  by  the  balsamic  air 
of  the  wilds.  With  the  aid  of  a  loaf  of  bread, 
and  some  cool  water  dipped  from  the  neighbor- 
ing pool  with  the  brim  of  his  sombrero,  he 
accomplished  a  hearty — because  hungry — re- 
past. The  completion  of  this  meal,  the  observ- 
ant buzzard,  now  reinforced  by  several  contem- 
plative comrades,  awaited  with  a  patient  eti- 
quette which  his  presence  enforced.  Then 
saddling,  with  incongruous  haste,  his  satirically 
entitled  steed,  this  solitary  wayfarer  sprang 
into  his  stirrups,  and  rode  carelessly  away  from 
his  sylvan  bed-chamber  and  breakfast-room, 
without  even  a  casual  survey  of  what  he  left 
behind  him. 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  7 

II. 

AS  Mr.  Howe  emerged  from  the  shelter  of  the 
pecan  motte,  and  rode  out  upon  the  plain, 
a  sense  of  exuberant  health  made  him  bestride 
his  muscular  horse  with  a  feeling  of  elation. 
A  short  ride  brought  him  to  the  line  of  the 
Trail,  into  which  he  at  once  turned,  and  for  a 
few  moments  pursued  his  way  between  its  mes- 
quite  fringes  with  preoccupied  thoughtfulness. 
Doubtless  few  of  his  whilom  companions  would 
have  recognized  in  this  sun-tanned  and  centaur- 
riding  wanderer  a  certain  aspirant  for  collegiate 
honors  of  a  few  years  previous.  Yet  such  was 
he.  A  critical  inspection  developed  the  fact 
that  his  garments — albeit  conventional  and  of 
the  traditional  type — did  not  set  upon  him  with 
-the  habitude  of  a  frontiersman.  Aside  from  their 
newness,  there  was  a  lack  of  intimacy  between 
them  and  the  limbs  of  their  wearer  which  at 
once  obtruded  itself,  and  which  the  fact  that 
garments  are  regarded  by  the  true  native  as  a 
species  of  highly  lacerated  cuticle,  was  emi- 
nently calculated  to  overcome.  However,  a 
certain  careless  freedom,  and  withal  a  reckless- 
ness of  mien,  were  not  without  explaining  the 


8  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

present  geographical  position  of  the  gentleman, 
and  there  was  an  easy  adaptability  in  his  genial 
face,  quite  in  keeping  with  his  surroundings. 
The  faint  scent  of  the  wild  verbena,  mingled 
with  the  more  brooding  odor  of  buffalo-clover, 
steeped  his  senses  as  he  quickened  his  horse's 
pace.  Prairie-dogs,  with  the  impudence  of  pig- 
mies in  their  strongholds,  barked  at  him  as  he 
passed,  or  suddenly  disappeared  in  their  bur- 
rows with  a  gurgling  murmur  of  disapprobation 
at  his  invading  progress..  A  crazy  "  killdee," 
screaming  with  the  occasional  aimlessnessof  an 
itinerant  vender,  ran  before  him  upon  the  right, 
and  with  commendable  counterfeiting  of  help- 
lessness attempted  to  decoy  him  from  her  young. 
A  jackass  rabbit,  plunging  wildly  from  a  neigh- 
boring bush,  limped  painfully  away  with  its 
customary  mendacity,  and  then  turned  and 
stared  at  him  from  under  exaggerated  ears.  In 
emphatic  derision  of  its  hypocrisy,  Howe  put 
spurs  to  the  intrepid  "  Oscar,"  compelling  the 
shameless  cripple  to  an  exhibition  of  speed 
which  disclosed  its  pitiful  deception,  and  well 
nigh  frightened  into  convulsions  the  would-be 
redoubtable  "  mule-ear." 

After  a  prolonged   and   exhilarating  canter 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  9 

that  drove  the  blood  into  the  browned  cheeks 
of  the  rider,  he  checked  his  horse  with  the  per- 
fumed breezes  thrilling  his  pulses.  As  he  did 
so,  a  lumbering  gray  owl  of  the  horned  species 
slipped  from  a  neighboring  live  oak  and  flapped 
heavily  away.  Howe  drew  reign  mechanically. 
Looking  up  into  the  near  top  of  the  dwarf  tree 
from  his  elevated  position,  he  espied  a  capa- 
cious nest  in  a  secure  fork,  from  which  point  of 
vantage  two  pairs  of  wondering  eyes  blinkingly 
regarded  him.  He  immediately  dismounted, 
tethered  his  horse  by  the  lariat  which  hung 
from  the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  and  proceeded 
to  climb  the  tree.  Arriving  at  the  nest,  he  saw 
what  he  had  before  conjectured — two  juvenile 
owls,  partly  fledged,  and  regarding  him,  with 
grotesque  wisdom,  from  the  midst  of  surround- 
ing debris — the  bones  of  moles  and  prairie- 
dogs,  of  tender  years,  purveyed  for  their  delec- 
tation by  their  solicitous  parents.  In  that 
spirit  of  dissent  from  the  proclivities  of  ani- 
mate nature  which  had  actuated  him  all  the 
morning,  Howe,  after  a  few  moments  of 
amused  inspection,  selected  the  most  promis- 
ing specimen  of  owldom  and  deposited  him  in 
the  capacious  pocket  of  his  ducking-cloth  jacket. 


io  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

Not  an  instant  too  soon,  though  ;  for  the  above- 
mentioned  solicitous  sire  and  mother,  return- 
ing in  company  at  this  critical  moment,  at- 
tempted to  interpose  a  forcible  but  unavailing 
remonstrance,  as  the  triumphant  thief  slipped 
down  the  tree. 

"Say — Mister — wot — ye— got?"  panted  a 
mischievous  voice  behind  him. 

I  mention  it  with  regret,  but  candor  compels 
it,  that  Mr.  Howe  gave  a  very  violent  start. 

If  there  are  any  circumstances  under  which 
one  is  justified  in  deeming  himself  secure  from 
the  fair,  it  would  seem  that  such  might  be  real- 
ized upon  the  bald  prairies  x>f  the  South-west : 
and  yet,  anomalous  as  it  may  appear,  encount- 
ers with  a  proverbially  curious  sex  are  not  ab- 
solutely unknown.  The  vastness  of  the  sur- 
roundings, the  loneliness  of  the  solitudes  impart 
a  feeling  of  isolation  from  feminine  fascinations 
— a  security  against  observation,  so  that  the 
first  impulse  of  surprise  suggests  an  attack  or 
at  best  an  intrusion.  He  faced  abruptly  around. 
Seeing  his  evident  amazement,  his  interrogator 
gave  vent  to  a  long,  loud,  extravagant  but  not 
unmusical  explosion  of  laughter,  accented  by 
hilarious  gestures  of  delight. 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  II 

Howe  entered  upon  a  critical  survey.  The 
object  of  his  scrutiny  might  be  fairly  said  to 
challenge  feminine  classification.  What  he 
saw  was  a  small  figure  so  phenomenally  clad  in 
garments  of  either  sex,  that  indecision  as  to 
gender  was  pardonable,  to  say  the  least.  She 
had  evidently  been  running,  and  her  present 
merriment  was  heightened  by  the  fact  that  she 
was  quite  out  of  breath.  Her  feet  and  ankles 
were  bare,  and  somewhat  scratched  with  the  cat- 
daw  and  cactus,  but — they  were  very  small 
feet  and  ankles  for  all  that.  She  wore  a  dress 
exhibiting  similar  signs  of  suffering  from  thorns, 
and  through  a  diversity  of  three-cornered  rents 
disclosing  a  red  petticoat.  Her  hands  did  not 
appear,  but  a  heavy  hunting  jacket,  buttoned 
.negligently  about  delicate  little  shoulders,  and 
with  several  inches  of  superfluous  sleeve,  op- 
pressed rather  than  clad  two  slender  arms,  in- 
creasing the  general  air  of  incongruity  and  dis- 
comfort. A  broad  sombrero  of  felt,  heavily 
adorned  with  tarnished  silver  lace  and  addi- 
tionally encumbered  by  a  strap-band  with  double 
thong  and  buckles — conveying  the  impression 
of  some  primitive  variety  of  cranial  torture — 
formed  her  decidedly  cumbrous  head  gear. 


12  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

And  yet  the  face  that  appertained  to  this 
much  be-clothed  picture  of  health  was  quaint 
and  pretty.  A  pair  of  very  roguish  black  eyes 
were  discreetly  presided  over  by  long,  fringing 
lashes.  A  braid  of  black  hair,  loosened  by  her 
recent  activity,  struggled  from  beneath  her 
hat  and  fell  upon  her  shoulder.  The  observant 
eye  of  Mr.  Faye  Howe  detected  a  revolver 
worn  rather  ambitiously  beneath  the  coat. 
With  almost  a  sigh  for  a  fastidious  taste,  fos- 
tered in  feminine  matters  by  past  promenade 
concerts,  he  decided  that  she  was  about  sixteen 
and  unquestionably  a  very  pretty  young  woman. 

She  suddenly  regained  her  composure  and 
spoke  with  damaging  abruptness. 

*'  Don't  ye  reckon  yer  'shamed  o'  yerself 
— robbin'  birds'-nests?  "  she  asked  boldly. 

Somewhere  in  the  depths  of  Howe's  slumber- 
ing conscience  there  lurked  a  faint  sense  of 
shame  for  his  present  predicament.  He  tacitly 
acquiesced. 

"  Why  did  ye  go  to  do  it,  then  ? "  she  in- 
quired with  the  air  of  a  privileged  mentor. 

"  To  give  to  you,"  he  replied  with  a  conciliat- 
ing smile,  finding  his  tongue  at  once  in  the 
fabrication  of  this  entertaining  falsehood. 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  13 

This  put  a  new  construction  on  the  case 
which  the  girl  was  quick  to  perceive.  Gallantry, 
of  however  doubtful  a  character,  is  always 
appreciated  by  the  artful  sex.  She  was  ap- 
peased but  not  convinced. 

Dropping  her  chin  suddenly,  she  exhibited  to 
the  gentleman's  view  a  blank  desert  of  hat,  and 
appeared  to  commune  with  a  precocious  judg- 
ment beneath  it.  Finally  raising  her  face 
again,  and  releasing  her  questioning  eyes  from 
their  discreet,  mourning  fringes,  "Will  ye — 
will  ye  swear  ye  saw  me?"  she  demanded 
with  ridiculously  solemn  emphasis. 

Mr.  Howe  was  not  at  all  positive  that  the  cir- 
cumstances demanded  the  gravity  of  an  oath. 
He  betrayed  the  weakness  of  his  former  position 
by  an  apparent  reluctance  to  commit  perjury. 

"  Reckon  not !  "  she  decided.  "  But  will  ye 
jest  naturally  give  it  to  me — anyhow? "dis- 
closing an  entreating  circle  of  pearl  that  was 
not  to  be  resisted. 

Something  in  the  swooning  fringes  of  those 
weeping  lashes,  the  dewy  freshness  of  the  red 
lips,  suggested  to  the  young  man  the  idea  of 
compensation.  I  say  suggested'^..  The  gentle- 
man had  at  one  time  been  a  law-student;  he 


14  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

had  then  been,  for  the  time  being,  inclined  to 
doubt  the  material  existence  of  compensation. 
However,  he  still  recognized  it  ideally.  I  sub- 
mit, too,  that  it  seemed  really  an  age  since  he 
had  enjoyed  the  osculatory  privileges  of  female 
society.  Actuated  by  a  realizing  sense  of 
this  fact  he  made  bold  to  declare  his  fell 
design. 

"  I  do  not  mind  bestowing  it  upon  one  condi- 
tion." 

"  How  ?  " 

He  started.  His  ear  was  so  sensitive  to  the 
sound  of  his  own  name. 

"  Well  ?" — with  some  mischief. 

"  What  did  ye  jest  get  to  say  ?  " 

"  I  said  you  could  have  the  owl  on  one  con- 
sideration." 

"Wot's  thet?" 

"  A  kiss," — very  grimly,  as  if  inviting  her  to 
a  law-suit. 

The  girl  retreated  with  feminine  shyness  ;  her 
hands,  with  difficulty  asserting  themselves  from 
the  long  sleeves,  made  haste  to  cover  her  pre- 
sumably coveted  mouth,  as  if  in  anticipation  of 
more  practical  advances.  "  No !  thank  ye  !  " 
she  replied  with  awkward  politeness.  "  I  don't 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  1$ 

go  much  on  makin'  free  with  perfect  strangers. 
Ye  may  keep  yer  ornery  owl,"  she  added. 

Howe  had  just  reached  the  same  conclusion  ; 
he  was  provokingly  ironical  in  reference  to  her 
second  sentence.  Howbeit,  he  experienced  that 
enchantment  which  distance  is  said  to  lend  to 
unattainable  objects. 

Notwithstanding  her  recent  disparaging  com- 
ment, the  girl  still  regarded  the  owl  with  incon- 
sistent longing. 

Ho\ve  confined  his  attention  to  a  perusal 
of  her  rustic  attractions. 

"Who  are  ye  and  where  ye  goin'?"  she 
finally  demanded  with  charming  directness. 

11  My  name's  Howe,  and  I'm  on  the  road," 
he  replied  vaguely,  exhibiting  that  Northern 
^privacy  in  personal  matters  unsympathized 
with  by  the  Southern  temperament. 

"  Hope  ye'll  git  thar;"  she  responded  cheer- 
fully. 

The  gentleman  thanked  her  for  her  good 
wishes  with  an  amused  sarcasm,  which  was  lost, 
however,  on  its  recipient. 

" Wot's  the  name  o'  yer  pony?"  she  said, 
returning  to  the  charge. 

It  happened  that  Mr.  Faye  Howe  was  trem- 


16  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

bling  on  the  verge  of  a  sneeze.  He  was  aware 
of  the  Greek  augury.  He  thought  he  would 
sacrifice  his  politeness  as  a  gallant  to  his  classic 
superstition.  Besides,  he  was  in  Texas.  If  his 
border-life  had  inculcated  in  the  gentleman  a 
certain  discretion  which  made  him  exclusively 
addicted  to  indulging  his  forcible  rhetoric  in 
the  privacy  of  his  own  company,  its  influence 
upon  his  code  of  social  etiquette  was  appar- 
ently not  so  salutary.  He  permitted  himself  the 
rude  privilege,  and  did  not  find  it  necessary  to 
apologize,  but  he  attempted  to  say  "  Oscar  "  at 
the  same  moment. 

"Hoss-car!"  she  exclaimed  with  scorn. 
"  Tears  to  me  ye  ain't  naturally  got  much  taste. 
Why  didn't  ye  call  him  '  Sittin'  Bull '  or 
1  Standin'  Buf'lo'?  'Pears  to  me  men  ain't 
worth  the  flippin'  a  pecan  a-namin'  things. 
There's  Rube  Smart's  got  two  lovely  mustangs, 
he  calls  '  Snipe  '  and  '  Bunch,'  as  ef  he  reckoned 
one  was  a  bird,  and  t'other  a  boil." 

The  girl  regarded  him  with  unqualified 
contempt  and  seemed  surprised  that  he  did 
not  wither  beneath  it,  but  remarked  very 
calmly, 

"  I  presume  you  would  have  called  my  horse 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  17 

1  Pansy '  or  '  Daisy  '" — this,  in  malicious  irony 
of  feminine  christening. 

An  imperfect  education  in  the  repartee  of  the 
border  was  not  without  assisting  her  in  braving 
the  deductions  of  Mr.  Howe's  logic.  She  eyed 
the  mustang  coolly  and  critically  with  the  air 
of  a  haughty  connoisseur.  I  must  admit  with 
grief  for  his  aesthetic  title,  that  his  coat  was 
somewhat  sun-cured  and  weather-beaten,  and, 
moreover,  quite  guiltless  of  grooming. 

"  No ! "  she  said,  "  pardner,  I  skursely 
reckon'  I  cud.  'Pears  as  I'd  call  him  '  Quid  ' 
or  '  Terbacker.' " 

Faye  Howe  lost  his  gravity  at  this  sally,  and 
the  young  lady's  scorn  thawed  a  trifle  at  the 
recognized  compliment  to  her  humor. 

"Tell  ye  wot  I  reckon  I'll  do,"  she  finally 
said. 

"  What?"  with  exaggerated  expectancy. 

"  I'll  play  ye  fer  thet  thar  critter,"  indicating 
the  owl  by  a  disparaging  wave  of  the  hand. 

"  What  will  you  put  up  against  it  ?  "  inquired 
Howe  with  well  feigned  caution,  though  heartily 
amused. 

The  girl  hesitated,  glanced  again  at  the  owl, 
sighed,  and  immediately  decided. 


1 8  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

"  My  six-shooter,"  drawing  the  formidable 
weapon. 

"Done!"  with  a  violent  air  of  business. 
"What  shall  it  be?" 

"  Poker,"  she  said  with  easy  familiarity,  pro- 
ducing a  woe-begone  pack  of  cards  from  the 
side  pocket  of  her  coat. 

The  owl  and  revolver  were  placed  side  by 
side  subject  to  the  dictum  of  chance.  The 
cards  were  cut  and  dealt  in  grave  silence.  The 
girl's  cheeks  flushed  and  her  eyes  gleamed  with 
excitement. 

"  Two  cards,"  she  said  with  gratifying  per- 
functoriness. 

Mr.  Howe  expressed  himself  as  satisfied  with 
his  hand. 

She  scowled. 

"Two  pair — aces  up!"  said  Howe. 

"  Full  hand  !  "  she  shouted,  triumphantly 
appropriating  the  spoils. 

The  gentleman  acquiesced  with  an  extrava- 
gant sigh  of  regret.  Then  he  took  the  initiative 
in  questioning. 

"I  suppose  you  can  handle  this?"  he  said, 
taking  up  the  revolver — an  old-fashioned,  muz- 
zle-loading Colt's  "  six-shooter." 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  19 

"  Right  smart  !  "  she  said  without  looking- up  ; 
she  had  become  absorbed  in  lavish  caresses  of 
the  recently  acquired  owl. 

"  Let  me  see  you  shoot," — Howe  requested, 
handing  it  over. 

The  girl  accepted  the  weapon  mechanically, 
and  looked  around  for  a  mark.  She  espied  an 
empty  tomato-can,  probably  discarded  by  some 
traveling  teamster.  She  pointed  it  out  to 
Howe. 

"  Watch  !  "  she  quietly  remarked,  raising  the 
heavy  weapon  .calculatingly  in  both  her  small 
hands.  Howe  did  watch  with  amused  in- 
terest. 

The  startling  report  of  the  heavy  arm  fol- 
lowed, and  as  the  smoke  drifted  to  one  side,  the 
-can  was  seen  to  have  changed  its  position  with 
visible  damage. 

Mr.  Faye  Howe  was  correspondingly  awed 
and  appreciative. 

"  Bravo  !  Where  did  you  learn  to  shoot !  "  he 
exclaimed  approvingly. 

"  Oh  !  Pop  and  me  practices  reg'lar  'bout  the 
ranch.*' 

"  The  ranch  ?  Where's  that  ?  " 

"'Bout  a  mile  north  o'  here,"  she    replied, 


20  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

indicating  the  line  by  jerking  the  thumb  of  her 
right  hand  over  her  shoulder,  while  she  still 
caressed  her  lugubrious  pet  with  her  left. 

"Who  lives  there?" 

"  Me  and  Pop." 

"Who's  'me'  ?" 

11  Do  you  mean — what's  my  name  ?  " 

Howe  nodded. 

"  Penelope  Natchez,"  she  answered. 

"What  does  your  father  do?" 

"  What — does— he — do?  "  with  round,  amazed 
eyes.  "  Where  ye  bin,  stranger?  Guess  you're 
a  '  tender-foot.'  " 

"  We're  in  equal  '  fix,'  sweetness,"  responded 
the  collegian,  apostrophizing  the  little  bare  and 
thorn-scratched  feet. 

The  girl  looked  at  him  embarrassedly,  and 
said  in  an  instant,  "  Thet's  plum  a-plenty  o' 
thet." 

Mr.  Howe  made  a  mental  note  to  avoid  com- 
parisons in  the  future. 

"  Well,"  she  resumed,  after  a  silence,  evidently 
protracted  for  its  effect  as  a  moral  lesson,  "  if 
you're  so  powerful  ignorant,  my  Pop  is  land- 
agent  and  sheep-raiser  for  Concho  Co." 

The  gentleman   reflected  that  she  probably 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  21 

shared  the  peculiarities  of  a  charming  but  in- 
accurate sex  in  matters  of  business.  Concho  Co. 
being  as  large  as  the  State  of  Rhode  Island,  it 
was  extremely  unlikely  that  "  Pop  "  monopolized 
the  sheep-industry  for  that  extent  of  territory. 
Howbeit,  he  looked  wise  and  said  nothing. 

"  Thar's  part  of  'em,"  she  explained,  pointing 
out  a  small  flock  at  a  distance  of  several 
hundred  yards.  .  At  times  during  the  recent 
conversation,  Howe  had  fancied  he  heard  the 
bleating  of  sheep  and  lambs,  but  the  sounds  had 
come  so  faintly  against  the  wind  that  he  believed 
himself  mistaken. 

"Yersee,"  she  said,  drawing  nearer  to  him 
and  becoming  suddenly  confidential,  "  Pop's 
went  down  to  Eden  this  morning  to  a  trial; 
he's  a  lawyer  and  has  been  county-judge—sure 
'nuff.  Bill  Darcy's  comin'  up  for  shootin'  a 
fejjer,  an'  they  couldn't  get  'long  no  how  with- 
out Pop.  I  promised  him  I'd  herd  them  sheep 
while  he's  away,  because  our  herder's  left.  It's 
somethin'  I  don't  generally  do,"  she  concluded 
apologetically. 

This  lucid  explanation  was  not  without  in- 
terest to  Howe.  It  happened  that  he  was  in 
quest  of  this  very  same  Judge  Natchez  in  ref- 


22  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

erence  to  a  disputed  land-title.  In  view  of  her 
recent  charming  confidences,  he  briefly  de- 
veloped these  facts  to  Miss  Penelope. 

"  Reckon  ye'd  better  stop  at  the  ranch  to- 
night," she  said,  when  he  had  finished.  "  Pop'll 
be  back  by  sun-down.  Ye  can  lunch  with  me 
under  thet  live  oak,  ef  ye  care  to — over  yonder" 
pointing  to  a  tree  rather  larger  in  its  general 
outline  than  the  prevailing  type  of  tliat  dwarf 
caricature  of  an  apple-tree.  It  was  distant 
about  a  hundred  yards. 

"  But  my  sheep's  strayin'  !  Throw  'em  in, 
Flo  !  "  she  screamed  to  a  black  and  white  shep- 
herd-dog that  now  disclosed  herself  in  their 
neighborhood,  and  had  been  doing  double  duty 
in  her  mistress'  absence. 

"  Go — 'round — 'em  !  "  gesticulating  with  a  cir- 
cular wave  of  the  hand. 

The  intelligent  brute  looked  knowingly  at 
her  a  moment,  and  then  trotting  off,  made  a 
wide  detour  to  intercept  the  stragglers.  But 
there  was  now  a  commotion  among  the  loudly 
lamenting  flock,  and  a  disturbed  bleating  came 
distinctly  to  the  ear. 

"  Does  thet  '  Hoss-car  '  o'  yours  'buck,'  Mr. 
Howe  ?  "  inquired  Miss  Penelope. 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  23 

The  gentleman  felt  a  certain  pride  in  dis- 
claiming for  his  mustang  that  customary  Texan 
characteristic. 

"  Reckon  I'll  hev  to  borrer  him,  then,"  she 
said,  loosing  the  tethered  pony,  springing  into 
the  saddle,  and  throwing  her  knee  over  its 
Mexican  pommel;  "I'll  meet  ye  over  by  thet 
tree."  And  she  rode  away  like  the  wind  with 
an  Amazonian  abandon  quite  in  keeping  with 
her  general  manner. 

Bidden  thus  to  an  Arcadian  repast  and  de- 
prived of  his  horse,  there  was  nothing  for  Faye 
Howe  to  do  but  to  follow  her  instructions.  He 
set  out  for  the  appointed  rendezvous,  but  being 
possessed  of  some  curiosity  to  note  the  pre- 
cision of  her  recent  shot,  turned  first  in  the 
direction  of  the  unfortunate  can.  Doubtless, 
he  proceeded  with  less  than  his  customary 
caution,  for  he  was  immediately  afterward 
startled  violently  by  a  peculiar  warning,  very 
similar  to  the  rapid  uncoiling  of  a  broken  clock- 
spring — a  sound  never  forgotten  by  one  who 
has  heard  it  under  dangerous  circumstances. 
Bewildered  by  its  muffled  character,  he  sprang 
suddenly  to  one  side,  and  stepped  right  upon 
an  enormous  rattle-snake.  Almost  identical  in 


24  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

color  with  the  "  curly  mesquite  "  grass  in  its 
neighborhood,  it  lay  coiled  ready  to  spring. 
He  shrank  back  with  an  exclamation  of  horror 
but  was  too  late.  The  reptile  darted  forward, 
with  a  movement  of  its  head  like  successive, 
rapid  blows  of  a  tack-hammer.  With  a  sickening 
shudder  the  gentleman  felt  himself  bitten  in  the 
little  finger  of  his  right  hand. 

He  staggered,  ghastly  pale,  to  the  live  oak — 
distant  but  a  few  yards — and  fell,  rather  than 
sat  down,  beneath  its  shade.  He  was  faint 
with  agony.  Cold  beads  of  perspiration — like 
a  death  damp — started  upon  his  forehead.  A 
foot-fall  struck  his  ear ;  he  raised  his  head  in  a 
blind,  dazed  fashion.  The  girl  was  already 
returning,  holding  the  owl. 

"Wot's  up?"  she  queried,  her  quick  eyes 
noting  the  feebleness  of  his  attitude. 

"  Bitten!  "  he  gasped,  trying  to  smile  in  the 
presence  of  the  weaker  sex — presumably.  It 
was  a  ghastly  failure — that  smile. 

The  girl  became  a  heroine  with  Columbine 
suddenness.  The  owl,  projected  from  his  airy 
perch,  described  a  bewildered  parabola.  She 
was  kneeling  beside  him. 

"Quick!    strip   up    yer   shirt   sleeve !"    she 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  25 

cried,  tearing  the  band  from  her  heavy  hat. 
She  wrapped  the  leathern  thong  about  his  mus- 
cular fore-arm,  and  slipping  the  straps  in  the 
buckles,  applied  this  rude  tourniquet  with  an 
excited,  nervous  strength  that  made  him  wince. 
She  produced  a  small  pistol-flask  and  some 
matches.  "  Show  me  !  "  she  said  imperatively. 

Mr.  Faye  Howe  obeyed.  His  little  finger, 
his  wrist — his  whole  hand  and  fore-arm,  up  to 
the  leathern  bandage,  were  so  swollen  they 
might  have  done  justice  to  Goliath  of  Gath. 

Dropping  to  a  sitting  posture,  she  deposited 
her  sombrero  in  her  lap,  and  grasping  his  wrist 
firmly,  she  laid  the  hand  upon  the  thick  felt. 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  woman  fumble  and 
flounder  with  a  powder  flask  ?  This  Texan 
heroine  deposited  two  charges  upon  the  bite, 
as  deftly  as  she  handled  her  needle  when  she 
cared  to.  She  struck  a  lucifer.  Howe  gave  a 
gesture  of  disapproval. 

"  Grit  yer  teeth  ! "  she  said  coolly.  She 
dropped  the  match.  A  flash  ;  a  sizzling  sput- 
ter ;  a  puff  of  white  smoke.  Mr.  Faye  Howe 
yelled  of  course. 

"  Thar !  "  she  said,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  "  I 
reckon  that'll  naturally  fetch  it." 


26  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

After  which  exhibition  of  decision,  feminine 
nerves  betrayed  themselves;  she  trembled 
violently  and  looked  a  little  faint.  However, 
she  was  spared  the  observance  of  this  by  her 
companion.  He  began  to  be  taken  with  a  con- 
vulsive shuddering.  Summoning  her  courage 
again,  the  girl  began  to  pull  and  tug  at  the 
pocket  of  her  coat.  She  finally  extricated  a 
reluctant,  colossal,  flat  bottle.  It  was  despond- 
ently full.  She  uncorked  it. 

"  Drink  !  "  she  said  simply.  "  Scotch  whisky ! 
yer  life  depends  on  it  !  " 

Howe  took  a  long  pull  at  the  flask. 

"  Don't  stop  !  "  she  cried.  "  There's  heaps 
more  !  I've  got  it  hid  at  the  ranch.  Lucky 
I  kep'  this  from  Pop  last  night,"  she  solilo- 
quized. "  I  was  afeard  he  was  'lowin  to  get 
outside  of  this,  so  as  to  clear  Darcy.  It's  most 
too  pop'lar  with  Pop.  Reckon  by  this  time," 
she  added  confidentially,  as  if  to  her  bare  feet, 
"  ther'  wouldn't  been  nothin'  in  it  but  the 
smell,  if  he'd  been  bit.  'Pears  he's  been  bit 
reg'lar  every  evenin'  lately."  Then  she  turned 
to  Howe  and  said  sternly,  "  Why  don't  ye 
drink  ?  " 

Thus  adjured,  Howe   made  a  laudable  effort 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  27 

to  diminish  the  contents  of  the  flask.  Pene- 
lope watched  him  anxiously. 

"Yer  must  drink  it  all,"  she  protested,  "and 
then — "  looking  at  him  slyly,  as  if  to  note  the 
impression  made  by  her  bibulous  advice — "and 
then — yer  must  begin  on  the  dimmy-john. 
Stop  ter  take  breath  ;  throw  yer  head  back  ; 
shut  yer  eyes,  and  let  her  June  ;  the  objek  is 
ter  get  the  pizen  drunk."  After  which  graphic 
medical  treatise,  she  subsided  with  a  solicitous 
gravity  in  her  eloquent  black  eyes. 

The  contents  of  the  flask  were  seriously 
diminishing.  Howe  felt  no  exaltation  from  the 
liquor.  It  was  the  antagonism  of  the  virus. 

"  Ye  must  get  home,"  Penelope  suddenly 
said  in  anxiety. 

"  Home?"  said  Howe,  wanderingly. 

"Yes — to  the  ranch." 

She  picked  up  the  unfortunate  owl,  which, 
from  its  apparent  distress,  had  not  even  yet 
regained  its  wonted  equanimity. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  shaking  the  lethargic  gen- 
tleman, "  tumble  irrto  yer  saddle  while  there's 
time." 

He  mechanically  obeyed  her.  She  called  to 
her  dog  to  "  throw  her  sheep  together."  Tak- 


28  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

ing  the  lariat  of  the  impassive  "  Oscar,"  who 
had  been  an  apparently  aesthetic  and  stupid 
spectator  of  her  previous  efforts  for  his  unfor- 
tunate master,  she  drove  the  bleating  flock 
before  her  and  set  out  for  the  ranch. 


III. 

THE  nest-building  of  the  Texan  is  not  char- 
acterized by  that  air  of  luxurious  refine- 
ment which  once  obtained  among  older 
Southern  states.  The  humble  dwelling  of  the 
"ex-judge,  land-agent,  and  sheep-farmer,  I  regret 
to  say,  was  not  an  exception.  Notwithstanding 
that  wealth  of  ability  which  his  varied  pursuits 
might  seem  to  imply,  mechanical  art  interposed 
but  an  obscure  and  feeble  shield  between  him 
and  the  inclemency  of  the  weather.  This  may 
have  been  owing  to  a  stoical  indifference  to 
climatic  changes,  but  I  am  inclined  to  refer  it 
to  a  certain  carelessness,  and  implicit  faith  in 
nature,  quite  in  keeping  with  the  Texan  temper- 
ament. The  idea  of  carelessness  was  strength- 
ened in  the  mind  of  the  casual  visitor  by 
marked  shiftlessness  in  material  surroundings, 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  29 

and  by  apparently  impotent  efforts  to  discard 
articles  of  departed  utility.  The  surface  of  the 
bald  prairie,  which  undulated  like  a  beach  of 
sand  upon  the  borders  of  the  ranch,  exhibited 
the  same  disreputable  curiosities  that  are  some- 
times found  on  the  shore  of  the  sea.  Tin  cans, 
empty  bottles,  soleless  boots,  broken  crockery, 
hats,  shameless  in  their  battered  exterior — 
all  in  absurd  attitudes  of  vagrancy — covered 
the  desecrated  face  of  virgin  solitude.  The 
forlorn  emblems  of  ephemeral  adornment  were 
all  persistently  and  uninterestingly  masculine. 
It  is  with  embarrassment  that  I  admit,  that 
there  were  other  articles,  unmistakably  femi- 
nine. 

'Among  a  heap  of  deer-horns,  bleached  and 
weather-crumbling,  an  object  gaunt  and  desti- 
tute of  grace  intruded  itself.  Lying  thus  amid 
the  debris  of  ambitious,  natural  head-gear,  its 
vertebrate  outline  might  have  been  taken  for 
the  wasted  skeleton  of  the  animal  to  which  the 
smaller  antlers  once  belonged,  but  a  more  criti- 
cal eye  declared  it  to  be  unquestionably — a 
discarded  "long-bustle"  Familiar  and  privi- 
leged intimacy  with  the  feminine  details  of 
ranches  makes  me  conscious  of  an  unfortunate 


30  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

ability  to  dilate  upon  still  more  intricate  devel- 
opments of  the  gentler  sex,  but  I  forbear. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  such  articles  as  were  thus 
gratuitously  and  generously  offered  to  exam- 
ination, Avere  explored  and  appreciated  by 
sundry  wild-cattle.  In  the  inquiring  search  of 
the  salt-starved  prairie-kine,  these  unlaundried 
waifs  received  minute  dental  and  even  masti- 
catory attention. 

The  ranch  itself  had  been  rather  injudiciously 
built  at  the  junction  of  two  creeks,  and  on  a 
very  slight  knoll  in  a  small  encircling  clump  of 
live  oaks — their  ever-green  quality  offering  thus 
a  feeble  but  perennial  shade.  It  was  of  adobe 
and  undoubtedly  picturesque.  Its  capacity  for 
comfort  at  certain  seasons  was  apparently 
beneath  the  attention  of  its  owner.  The  roof 
from  within  afforded  occasional  astronomical 
opportunities,  and  a  pane  of  glass  in  the  soli- 
tary window  was  rendered  uselessly  opaque  by 
the  intervention  of  an  old  felt  hat.  Howbeit, 
it  was  not  altogether  unprepossessing. 

It  had  once  been  the  apartment  of  the 
accomplished  Judge,  but  as  the  flight  of  time 
marked  a  growing  maturity  in  Penelope,  the 
legal  gentleman  had  exhibited  a  chivalric 


A  LO'NE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  31 

courtesy  in  retiring  to  the  less  pretentious,  but 
equally  leaky,  cover  of  a  tent,  pitched  just  out- 
side. This,  with  enforced  retreats  at  odd 
times  to  the  kitchen — a  long,  low  structure, 
built  of  slabs  and  graced  with  a  small  cooking- 
stove — formed  the  father's  sleeping  quarters, 
and  comprised  his  somewhat  sad  attempt  at 
house-keeping.  The  whole  was  encircled  by  a 
slight  rail-fence. 

The  chivalric  retirement  of  the  Judge  from 
Miss  Penelope's  room,  was,  however,  tempered 
by  signs  of  his  intermittent  presence.  A 
meager  array  of  the  resources  of  Texan  juris- 
prudence in  the  shape  of  three  debilitated  law- 
books,  covered  with  dust,  and  secured  from 
perusal  by  over-topping  feminine  "gimcracks," 
was  supplemented  by  an  ample  commentary 
sanctioned  by  one  Lynch  J. — to  whom  frontier 
ideas  of  exact  justice  apparently  necessitated 
more  assiduous  reference.  Briefly,  the  wall  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  scant  law-library  sug- 
gested an  arsenal.  It  was  literally  frescoed 
with  munitions  of  war — shot-guns,  "  Winches- 
ters," carbines,  pistols,  revolvers,  and  bowies, 
were  included  in  this  suggestive  display  of  the 
swift  retribution  that  waits  upon  crime.  It  is 


32  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

not  too  much  to  say,  that,  with  the  exception  of 
several  articles  of  apparel,  discreetly  veiled  by 
an  overhanging  strip  of  calico,  they  formed 
almost  the  only  details  of  this  modest  attempt 
at  house-furnishing.  There  was,  however,  one 
other  prominent  piece  of  furniture.  A  low 
bed,  somewhat  shaky  in  its  underpinning,  and 
exhibiting  that  peculiar  sketchiness  in  make-up 
of  which  the  interior,  and,  in  fact,  the  tout 
ensemble  of  this  caricature  of  mechanical  art 
prevailingly  partook. 

Mr.  Faye  Howe  was,  at  present,  occupying 
it.  A  demi-john  rested  upon  the  floor.  Pene- 
lope, tin  cup  in  hand,  with  a  grim  resolve  in 
her  pretty  features  and  a  general  atmosphere 
of  perfunctory  dosing,  was  seated  near  him.  It 
is  only  the  grave  exigency  of  his  recent  mis- 
fortune which  constrains  me  to  admit  that  the 
gentleman  was,  at  present,  hopelessly  inebriated. 
At  the  interesting  moment  of  his  introduction 
the  laudable  and  unremitting  attentions  of 
Miss  Natchez  had  accomplished  this  unfortu- 
nate but  necessary  result. 

Yet,  whether  it  is  to  be  attributed  to  the 
potency  of  the  poison  or  to  his  naturally  strong 
head,  I  somehow  feel  it  necessary  to  say,  by 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  33 

way  of  apology,   that  he  had   not  succumbed 
without  a  struggle. 

Had  Penelope  been  interested  in  drunken- 
ness as  a  purely  psychical  study,  it  is  to  be  be- 
lieved that,  at  successive  stages,  her  experi- 
mental efforts  would  have  been  amply  reward- 
ed. But  she  was  eminently  practical,  and  ig- 
nored details.  Serene  in  the  achievement  of 
her  purpose,  attendant  symptoms  were  disre- 
garded. The  phenomena  attributable  to  alco- 
holic excess  are  almost  infinite.  The  ardent 
devotion  of  some  temperaments  when  intoxi- 
cated is  worthy  of  a  higher  inspiration.  I 
think  I  am  safe  in  saying  that,  whatever  possi- 
bilities liquor  may  induce,  Mr.  Howe  achieved 
them  all.  He  had  been  hilarious,  maudlin, 
affectionate,  even  endearing.  He  was  now 
feebly  interjectional  and  mildly  incoherent. 
His  naturally  retentive  memory,  excited  by  his 
potions,  constrained  him  at  first  to  entertain 
Miss  Natchez  with  a  lengthy  rehearsal  of  ac- 
knowledged vocal  abilities.  He  sang  solos, 
duets,  trios — his  intoxicated  judgment  even 
tempting  him  to  grapple  with  a  quartet.  This 
proving  a  lamentable  failure — especially  as  he 
evinced  a  disposition  to  carry  all  the  parts  at 


34  4  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

once — he  relapsed  into  college-glees,  and  event- 
ually into  a  madly  whirling  drinking-chorus. 

Awakening  to  a  realizing  sense  of  his  prox- 
imity to  beauty,  he  exhausted  the  resources  of 
sentiment  and  an  unusually  rich  vocabulary 
upon  the  astonished  maiden.  He  called  her 
"his  flower,"  "his  life,"  "his  dream,"  "his 
'brooding  sweetness,'"  his  "ecstatic  affinity." 
He  was  evidently  near  the  clouds  at  this  point. 
He  even  instituted  comparisons,  and  drawing 
from  the  bosom  of  his  blowse  the  carte-de-visite 
of  a  most  fashionably-dressed  young  lady,  ex- 
pressed his  unhesitating  preference  for  the 
natural  charms  of  his  bizarre  nurse.  These 
vehement  efforts  were  associated  with  certain 
familiarities  of  gesture  and  caress,  which  Pene- 
lope repelled  with  commendable  coyness,  but 
with  a  manifest  feebleness,  prompted,  no 
doubt,  by  her  feminine  consciousness  of  the 
fact  that  his  critical  discernment  was  sadly 
blunted  by  the  frequency  of  his  libations.  In 
the  end,  worn  out  by  his  violent  exertions,  Mr. 
Faye  Howe  became  helplessly  comatose.  Miss 
Penelope  Natchez  picked  up  the  picture  that 
had  fallen  from  his  nerveless  fingers.  She 
abandoned  herself  to  a  long  and  careful  study 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  35 

of  its  attractions.  Having  concluded  which, 
with  the  disparaging  comment  that  she  "  didn't 
go  much  on  sich  fine-haired  and  furbelowed 
gals  as  thet,"  she  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  with 
a  tender  glance  at  the  recumbent  Howe,  ruth- 
lessly appropriated  it. 

It  was  now  night.  "  Pop "  had  not  come 
home.  With  some  forebodings  for  her  sires 
present  physical  condition,  she  essayed  to  allay 
her  filial  anxiety  by  renewed  efforts  for  the 
comfort  of  Howe.  Now  that  he  was  entirely 
unconscious,  she  lavished  a  wealth  of  tender- 
ness upon  him  ;  she  lifted  his  head  and  de- 
posited it  in  her  lap  ;  she  passed  her  hands  cares- 
singly over  the  blonde  beard,  and  softly 
smoothed  his  thin  hair;  she  talked  to  him  coo- 
ingly,  in  a  sympathetic,  pitying  fashion,  depre- 
cating his  misfortune,  and  sincerely  grateful 
for  her  prompt  presence.  And  then,  as  time 
slipped  away  into  the  small  hours,  and  the 
moonlight — that  mysterious  foe  of  woman — 
filtered  through  the  well-ventilated  .roof  and  fell 
upon  her  ;  and  the  mocking-birds — those  melo- 
dious extollers  of  Luna's  demoralizing  tenden- 
cies— beguiled  her  with  their  song,  she  grew 
suddenly  lonely ;  her  head  drooped,  her  black 


36  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

mane  touched  his  forehead,  and  she  kissed  him. 
And  the  half-fledged  but  vigilant  owlet,  as  if  by 
this  seal  he  recognized  her  now  inalienable  title 
to  his  chance-ownership,  attested  it  by  a  soft 
"  Hoo-o  !  Hoo-o-o  !  "  that  sent  the  hot  blood 
dancing  over  the  girl's  temples,  as  though  a 
cloud  of  witnesses  were  conscious  of  her  weak- 
ness. But  Mr.  Faye  Howe  dreamed  that  the 
fashionable  lady  watched  over  his  sleep. 


IV. 

n^HE  following  morning,  as  Judge  Natchez, 
A  who  comprehended  under  one  large  hat-brim 
so  much  of  the  professional  ability  of  Concho 
County,  turned  his  face  homeward,  there  was 
an  air  of  dejection  about  his  bearing,  and  a 
flavor  of  delinquency  in  the  swift  canter  into 
which  he  at  once  lashed  his  unambitious  pony. 
It  is  very  likely  that  this  gloomy  exterior  was 
the  outcome  of  certain  reverses,  professional 
and  pecuniary,  that  the  gentleman  had  recently 
sustained.  Notwithstanding  copious  draughts 
of  that  inspiration,  which,  according  to  Miss 
Natchez,  "  Pop  "  was  wont  to  imbibe,  his  earn- 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  37 

est  eloquence  in  behalf  of  his  client  was  unap- 
preciated, and  Bill  Darcy  had  been  sentenced 
to  be  hung.  And  the  legal  gentleman's  efforts 
to  drown  his  chagrin  in  the  enticements  of 
"  Mexican  Monte,"  during  the  previous  even- 
ing, or  more  precisely,  to  "  even  up  with  the 
Almighty,"  as  he  profanely  remarked,  on  sitting 
down  to  the  deal  board,  had  unfortunately  re- 
sulted in  the  loss  of  his  retainer  and  counsel- 
fee,  consisting  of  the  sum  of  twenty-five  dol- 
lars cask  and  a  diamond  pin — his  client's  title 
to  this  last  article  being  entirely  limited  to 
the  ostentatious  wearing  of  the  gem. 

There  was  a  pathetic  terseness  in  his  sum- 
mary of  his  woes  to  the  proprietor  of  the  Eden 
Saloon. 

"  Busted,  Jim,  mental,  moral  and  physical. 
'  Hang  me  up  '  for  better  luck,  and  recooperate 
my  failin'  powers  with  a  '  stone-fence  '." 

It  was  apparently  impossible  for  human  nature 
to  resist  this  appeal.  The  drink  was  speedily 
placed  before  him  by  the  gentlemanly  proprie- 
tor, who  mixed  it  himself  in  the  easy  freedom 
of  shirt-sleeves  and  tilted  cigar. 

Having  deposited  this  ominous  beverage  in 
his  stomach  with  the  air  of  one  assuming  the 


38  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

carriage  of  unusually  heavy  freight,  Natchez 
departed.  Howbeit,  it  was  the  second  section 
of  stone-wall  which  he  had  that  morning  assim- 
ilated. He  mixed  the  other  himself,  and  meas- 
ured the  whisky  on  the  "  two-finger "  princi- 
ple— having  lost  the  middle  and  third  digit 
down  at  San  Antonio  in  a  little  difference  of 
opinion  between  a  legal  scholar  and  himself 
about  the  law  of  mayliem.  This  slight  mutila- 
tion, however,  he  was  unwilling  should  destroy 
the  consistency  of  his  original  method. 

I  may  remark  parenthetically  at  this  point, 
that  the  gentlemanly  proprietor  of  the  Eden 
Saloon,  as  aggregating  in  his  collective  indi- 
viduality the  functions  of  hotel-proprietor, 
bar-keeper,  and  gambler,  typified  in  the  mind 
of  Penelope  the  Serpent  of  Biblical  Story,  with 
the  general  outlines  of  wrhose  disreputable 
advice  to  confiding  womanhood  and  subsequent 
depressing  influence  upon  mankind  in  general, 
she  was  mistily  familiar.  The  gentleman  was 
accordingly  despised  with  the  customary  inten- 
sity of  a  discriminating  sex  when  reprehensible 
qualities  are  unquestionably  labeled.  So  that, 
one  would  have  imagined  primd  facie  a  seem- 
ing inconsistency  in  the  despondency  with 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  39 

which  the  legal  Adam  dashed  through  the  nar- 
row street  of  this  frontier  travesty  of  Paradise. 

An  hour  later  he  chanced  upon"  a  black- 
browed  Hercules,  lying  listlessly  upon  the 
prairie,  and  gazing  with  a  scowl  at  some  very 
fine  cattle  grazing  in  a  fertile  hollow.  The  man 
was  attired  in  the  unmistakable  clothes  of  his 
calling.  There  were  the  heavy,  wide,  leathern 
leggings  extending  to  the  waist,  giving  the 
wearer,  when  erect,  the  appearance  of  walking 
in  an  immense  mail-bag.  There  were  the  knee- 
boots  with  heels  so  extravagantly  high,  and 
placed  at  such  an  absurd  angle,  that  a  Parisi- 
enne  in  the  day  of  Louis  Quinze  would  have 
screamed  with  delight  and  cheerfully  acqui- 
esced in  so  admirable  a  contrivance  for  destroy- 
ing the  eyesight.  This  gentleman  avoided  any 
such  tendency  by  living  in  the  saddle.  When 
he  decided  to  walk — which  he  rarely  did — he 
strongly  personified  in  gait  that  inelegant  bird 
— the  goose.  It  was  the  American  cow-boy, 
par  excellence,  with  a  certain  smartness  of  exte- 
rior, which  suggested  the  approving  criticism 
of  the  fair. 

A  small  tent  stood  near  him,  sharing  by  its 
general  air  of  relaxation  in  the  despondency 


40  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

which  seemed  rampant  that  morning.  The 
necessary  conveniences  and  utensils  of  his  tent 
were  strewn  in  reckless  and  crippled  confusion 
about  their  recumbent  owner.  This  ill-favored 
nomad  seemed  to  be  lying  amid  rheumatic  and 
despondent  household  gods. 

What  was  there  in  the  sight  of  those  mag- 
nificent cattle  to  occasion  that  scowl  ?  It  was 
simply  a  question  of  "  cow-brands."  He  was 
in  despair  of  any  possible  method  by  which 
that  "  wine-glass  "  label  could  be  converted  with 
the  assistance  of  a  red-hot  iron  into  his  own 
suspiciously  involved  trade-mark.  This  is  Air. 
Rube  Smart — "  cow-puncher." 

Intuitively  recognizing  a  sympathetic  spirit, 
the  Judge  checked  his  horse. 

"  H-h-howdy  !  "  the  "  stone-fence  "  rather 
than  the  Judge  remarked.  The  man,  recogniz- 
ing the  bibulousness  of  his  salute,  raised 
his  eyes  in  surly  inquiry  and  replied, 
"  Howdy !  " 

"  Bo-oo-'ful  mornin'  !  " 

The  man  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  ungra- 
ciously accepted  the  weather's  serenity.  The 
peculiarly  rocky  character  of  the  Judge's  cups 
had  not  com'municated  their  insensibility  to  his 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  41 

perceptions.  He  was  conscious  of  a  lack  of 
spontaneity  in  the  dialogue. 

"  Wash  up  ?  Wash  lates'  newsh  fro*  Wash- 
ington ?  "  he  queried  with  judicial  concern,  and, 
I  grieve  to  say,  with  occasional  Texan-judicial 
articulation. 

"  Bill  Darcy's  sentenced  ter  swing,"  said  the 
cow-boy.  The  peculiar  quality  of  ironical  exag- 
geration by  which  the  Judge's  inadequate 
defense  was  rendered  a  national  matter,  was 
keenly  felt  by  its  recipient  through  his  spirit- 
uous disguise.  His  effusiveness  was  quenched. 

''Wash  feller  'shpec'  'shgot  five  mur'hers  an' 
dead  nigger  'ghin  'm,"  he  retorted. 

"Judge,"  said  his  gloomy  auditor  with 
affected  concern,  "I  reckon  you'd  better  pull 
yer  freight  fer  hum  ;  this  sun's  a  heap  too  hot 
fer  yer  head,  and  I  don't  reckon  ther's  room 
enough  roun'  here  fer  ye.  I'd  recommen'  yer 
ter  put  right  smart  o'  water  on  that  law-box 
o'  your'n  when  yer  git  thar.  What's  more,"  he 
continued,  "thet  Penelope" — he  alluded  to 
Miss  Natchez  as  though  she  suggested  antelope, 
with  the  attributes  of  which  he  was  unques- 
tionably more  familiar — "  thet  Penelope  o' 
your'n  needs  yer  protectin'  care.  *  I  seen  her, 


42  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

yesterday,  totin'  a  fine-haired  feller  up  to  yer 
ranch.  Looked  kinder  caved  in,  blank  him  !  " 
he  concluded,  with  a  lowering  look.  The 
Judge  did  not  inquire  into  the  origin  of  his 
friend's  profanity.  He  was  oppressed  with 
graver  personal  misgivings. 

"  I  reckon  thar's  whar  my  whisky's  been 
junein' !  "  Apparently  sobered  by  the  gravity  of 
this  decision  he  wheeled  his  horse,  and  rode  off 
without  thanking  his  informant. 


V. 


WHEN  Mr.  Faye  Howe  first  opened  his 
blood-shot  blue  eyes  on  the  morning 
after  his  sanitary  debauch,  a  demoralized  sen- 
sation of  dull  pain  oppressed  his  bewildered 
consciousness.  His  digestive  apparatus  seemed 
to  have  experienced  abnormal  distention  and 
subsequent  disastrous  collapse.  His  head  was 
the  only  bodily  organ  which  appeared  to  be 
still  subject  to  inflation,  and  his  mouth  and 
throat — he  was  morally  convinced,  had  usurped 
the  functions  of  the  descent  to  Avernus.  He 
lay  perfectly  still,  overwhelmed  with  the  idea 


A  LO.VE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  43 

that  the  present  colossal  proportions  of  his 
cranium  required  all  the  space  of  Penelope's 
airy  boudoir  for  their  accommodation,  and  that 
the  slightest  change  of  position  would  release 
a  throbbing  engine  in  his  skull,  and  involve  its 
very  sensitive  walls  in  crushing  ruin.  By  what 
species  of  inspiration  he  had  engineered  his 
gigantic  head-piece  through  the  narrow  door- 
way was  a  problem  beyond  the  present  avail- 
able resources  of  his  whisky-steeped  intellect. 
He  was  still  feebly  pondering  upon  the  impos- 
sibilities of  this  achievement,  when  Penelope 
dawned  upon  him  through  the  portal,  so 
ambitiously  transformed  from  the  Bohemian 
toilet  of  yesterday,  that  failure  of  recognition 
by  him,  in  his  present  shattered  condition, 
might  have  been  pardonable.  She  was  con- 
sistently feminine  in  her  attire,  but  extrava- 
gantly arrayed  in  finery  of  a  faded  and  filmy 
texture.  Nevertheless,  a  certain  witchery 
about  the  tout  ensemble,  and  an  agreeable  odor 
of  buffalo-clover  with  which  her  hair  and  anti- 
quated corsage  were  adorned,  made  its  impres- 
sion upon  Howe,  who  /ielded  her  the  homage 
of  a  sex  more  appreciative  of  effect  than  detail 
in  matters  of  dress.  He  was  not  without 


44  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

glimpses  of  the  damsel's  possibilities  in  appro- 
priate attire. 

"Howdy?"  she  said,  in  a  sprightly  tone. 
"  How  ye  makin'  out  ?  "  with  a  sympathy  of 
manner  which  her  grammar  would  scarcely 
convey. 

Howe  thanked  her,  and  exhibited  a  diffidence 
about  expatiating  upon  his  sensations,  feeling 
a  man's  incapacity  to  do  the  subject  complete 
justice  without  the  assistance  of  profane 
rhetoric.  He  ventured,  however,  to  photo- 
graph his  hygienic  degradation  by  facial 
pantomime. 

"  Prezackly  ! "  she  exclaimed  with  demure 
eyelashes,  but  mentally  charmed  by  the  con- 
trast between  his  silence  and  her  sire's  unhal- 
lowed inspirations  after  indiscreet  libations  to 
Silenus.  She  displayed  at  once  a  savory  bowl 
and  large  spoon,  which  she  had  hitherto  held 
behind  her. 

"  I  reckoned  ye'd  be  just  naturally  starved 
arter  yesterday,"  she  said,  "so  I  jes'  killed  a 
pullet  and  made  ye  some  chicken  broth.  Yer 
hand's  better,  Mr.  Howe.  Tell  ye,  honey,  ye 
had  a  clus  call — sure  'nuff." 

Forthwith    a    prairie  Hebe   began    to    min- 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  45 

ister   to   the   famished   capacity   of   a   blonde 
Bacchus. 


Meanwhile,  her  respected  parent,  having 
struck  a  most  uncompromising,  homeward  bee- 
line  since  his  last  cheerful  information,  was 
just  rising  the  divide  which  overlooked  his 
ranch.  As  he  crossed  the  string  of  water-holes 
which  formed  the  line  of  the  creek,  he  was 
instantly  cognizant  of  the  fact,  that  although 
the  qualifications  of  the  day  for  pasturage  were 
admirable,  his  sheep  were  still  imprisoned  in 
their  primitive  brush-pen,  and  were  solacing 
their  appetites  on  the  haystack  which  he  had 
prudently  provided  against  the  advent  of 
dreaded  "  Northers."  This  being  the  last  link 
in  the  chain  of  misfortunes  which  had  lately 
oppressed  him,  he  at  once  entered  into  hearty 
and  blasphemous  rivalry  of  the  much-afflicted 
Job,  who — I  cheerfully  submit — was  fairly 
successful  in  exhausting  the  poetic  possibilities 
of  profanity. 

It  is  with  reluctance  Jhat  I  refrain  from  tran- 
scribing this  Homeric  indulgence  in  epithet. 
For  I  certainly  appreciate  how  necessary  it  is  to 
the  interpretation  of  character,  and  to  the  por- 


46  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

trayal  of  an  exceptional  felicity  of  expression. 
I  concede,  however,  for  the  reader's  enlighten- 
ment, that  he  threw  grave  and  unsanctified 
doubts  on  the  origin  of  himself  and  Penelope, 
and  in  a  surprisingly  short  s.pace  of  time 
involved  his  entire  genealogical  line  in  unques- 
tionable discredit,  making  all  this  contingent 
upon  certain  conditions  of  which  he  had  present 
ocular  proof. 

After  which  charming  effort  he  executed  a 
wild  war-dance  in  his  stirrups  in  evidence  of  an 
exhausted  vocabulary,  took  out  a  large,  black 
plug  of  tobacco  and  bit  off  a  triangular  quarter 
of  it,  and  then  charged  headlong  upon  his 
.  abode. 

It  would,  perhaps,  be  reasonable  to  presume 
after  the  late  explosion,  and  the  additional 
revelation  of  the  recently  absorbed  virtues  of 
his  demi-john  and  flat  bottle  —  both  of  which 
rested  in  odoriferous  emptiness  outside  his  hos- 
pitable door — that  the  Judge  girded  his  loins  to 
do  battle  with  the  presumed  whisky  absorbent. 
But  he  did  not.  The  education  of  the  Judge 
must  be  remembered  ;  it  was  legal  and  rhetor- 
ical, with  that  contempt  for  physical  proficiency 
which  the  cultivation  of  the  intellect  frequently 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  47 

implies.  In  the  exchange  of  professional 
billingsgate  or  personal  repartee,  he  excited 
the  admiration  and  applause  of  Concho  Co. 
This  natural  gift  for  fluent  invective  was,  per- 
haps, assisted  in  no  slight  degree  by  the  fact 
that  he  was  very  deaf,  and  his  feelings,  being, 
therefore,  spared  the  damaging  reflections  of 
his  opponents,  permitted  his  untrammeled  in- 
tellect to  rise  calm  and  clear  to  every  verbal 
emergency.  His  peculiar  mental  attitude  was 
thus  superior  to  the  employment  of  brute 
force,  and  when  an  array  of  adverse  circum- 
stances intruded  themselves  upon  his  normally 
serene  exterior,  he  was  prone  to  invite  Divine 
attention  to  his  wrongs  in  the  irreverent  manner 
we  have  indicated.  The  Judge,  by  tempera- 
ment, and  Mr.  Howe,  by  experience,  were  con- 
sistent in  this  regard. 

But  on  the  present  occasion,  whatever  verbal 
collation  he  had  reserved  for  Mr.  Faye  Howe, 
he  was  apparently  prevented  from  offering  to 
his  notice,  partly  by  his  instant  recognition 
of  his  familiar  features',  and  partly  by  that  ap- 
parent interest  in  his  daughter  which  he 
detected  in  the  gentleman's  face  as  he  entered 
the  room.  He  recognized  in  him  a  very  good 


48  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

client  ;  he  was  aware  of  his  plethoric  bank- 
account.  This  was  the  first  occasion  on  which 
the  Northerner  had  honored  his  legal  adviser 
by  visiting  him  at  his  own  abode ;  and  the 
father's  imaginative  temperament  and  fond 
parental  heart  were  at  once  inspired  with  air- 
castle  tendencies  for  the  possible  future  of  Miss 
Penelope. 

His  greeting,  therefore,  although  subdued  in 
utterance,  was  earnest  and  genuine.  The  Judge 
prevailingly  adopted  a  mildness  of  intonation 
in  ordinary  conversation  ;  it  was  effective  as  ex- 
pressive of  his  utter  hopelessness  of  hearing 
his  own  voice. 

I  may  as  well  acquaint  the  reader,  at  this 
point,  with  the  fact  that  the  gentleman  was  of 
unquestionable  birth  and  breeding.  He  was  the 
son  of  a  former  governor  of  the  State  of  Vir- 
ginia, and  Penelope's  mother  had  been  a  lady 
.of  patrician  beauty  and  social  attraction ;  but 
the  War,  that  comprehensive  apology  for  much 
Southern  shamelessness  of  destitution,  was  here 
sincere.  The  feebler  feminine  nature  despaired 
and  died  ;  the  stronger  masculine  one  survived 
and  accepted  alcoholic  consolation.  When, 
therefore,  the  degenerate  gentleman  of  a  once 


A  LOME  STAR  BO-PEEP.  49 

golden  age  learned  of  the  narrow  escape  of  his 
guest,  and  the  heroic  treatment  extended  by  his 
daughter,  his  pale,  intellectual,  and  still  hand- 
some features  expressed  both  parental  pride 
and  sympathetic  solicitude. 

Neither  am  I  prepared  to  admit  that  the  ap- 
parent dearth  of  alcoholic  refreshment  detracted 
at  all  from  his  natural  joy  at  unmistakable 
symptoms  of  convalescence.  Let  those  who 
doubt,  experience  Southern  hospitality. 

"  Penelope  will  bring  you  around  in  a  day  or 
two,"  he  said  cheerfully  ;  "  make  yourself  per- 
fectly at  home  and  as  comfortable  as  you  can 
under  the  circumstances.  "Meanwhile,  you 
say  you  have  certain  matters  of  business  " — the 
critical  reader  observes  that  the  Judge  had  that 
easy  adaptability  which  enabled  him  to  vary  his 
dialect  to  suit  his  auditor,  and  his  present  utter- 
ance gave  evidence  of  the  recollection  of  social 
privileges,  once  enjoyed  and  by  no  means  for- 
gotten— "we  can  consider  them  at  our  leisure." 

To  which  Howe — a  Northerner,  remember, 
and  notwithstanding  his  serious  invalidism, 
replied  : 

"  Why  not  now  ?  It's  the  old  matter — that 
dispute  about  water-privileges  between  Smart 


50  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

and  myself.  The  season  is  dry,  and  there  is 
barely  enough  for  my  six  thousand  sheep.  He 
insists  upon  watering  his  cattle  on  my  range." 

"  Is  thet  all  ? "  said  the  legal  gentleman, 
relapsing  into  border  slang  immediately,  and 
giving  fiery  advice  which,  hitherto,  he  had  sel- 
dom followed.  "  Is  thet  all  ?  Wai,  I've  looked 
up  thet  matter  an'  yer  *  files'  is  all  straight  ; 
give  him  '  notice  to  quit ;  '  ef  he  dont  '  bluff,' 
shove  half  a  dozen  cartridges  inter  yer  '  Win- 
chester,' freeze  ter  yer  water-hole,  and  stand  off 
him  and  his  cussed  cattle." 


VI. 

A  FORTNIGHT  of  the  halcyon  weather  of  a 
Texan  spring  had  passed  away — days  of 
sunshine,  of  fragrance,  of  bird-song — the  blos- 
soming of  Nature's  heart  in  earth,  and  air,  and 
sky — days  uneventful,  but,  ah  me  !  full  of  a  cer- 
tain novel  and  blissful  fascination  for  Miss 
Natchez.  She  was  leaning  dejectedly  over  the 
narrow  railing  of  the  ranch,  her  drooping  eye- 
lashes giving  her  face  a  quaint  suggestion  of 
heavy  mourning.  There  had  been  no  abate- 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  5 1 

ment  of  the  glad  weather ;  the  air  was  tremu- 
lous with  the  melody  of  rival  mocking-birds 
which  flickered  in  black  and  white  plumes  from 
tree  to  tree,  and  filled  the  embowering  live 
oaks  with  their  delirious  ventriloquism.  Her 
cause  of  grief  was  entirely  subjective  ;  the  sun- 
shine of  Mr.  Faye  Howe's  presence  had  faded 
from  her  horizon. 

There  had  been  hours  of  Arcadian  colloquy, 
of  equestrian  companionship,  of  pastoral  sheep- 
tending  and  sheep-seeking  with  this  Lone  Star 
Bo-peep.  There  had  even  been  sentimental 
moments  of  generous  rivalry,  devoted  to  the 
perforation  of  tin  tomato-cans  at  ten  paces 
with  the  "  six-shooter."  It  would  seem  that 
the  "  abomination  of  desolation"  was  left  as* 
the  result  of  this  target-practice. 

Howbeit,  although  at  times  given  to  reverie 
and  a  day  dreaming  that  was  new  to  her,  she 
was  full  of  a  certain  energy  attributable,  perhaps, 
to  the  awakening  spring. .  But  the  Judge,  who 
was  himself  a  victim  of  the  "  dumb-ager,"  and, 
on  days  consecrated  to  mental  communion  and 
suppressed  "  shakes,"  had  an  invalid's  acute 
perceptions,  "  allowed  thet  he  never  reckoned 
the  'spring  fever'  so  obstrep'rous." 


52  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

A  sudden  conviction  of  the  untidiness  of  the 
ranch  oppressed  her,  and  by  incessant  practice 
in  the  hurling  of  missiles,  she  removed  its  en- 
circling debris  to  a  point  too  remote  for  ocular 
disapprobation. 

Then  she  lost  her  apparent  taste  for  veiling 
her  sex  in  masculine  raiment.  With  the  aid  of 
some  old  fashion-plates,  and  an  ingenuity  with 
her  needle  at  which  the  sterner  sex  stands 
aghast,  she  accomplished  toilettes  ontrt  but 
effective,  from  relics  of  her  mother's  finery 
religiously  preserved  by  her  father.  The  Judge 
had  his  failings  ;  he  had  also  his  ideals.  Not- 
withstanding great  powers  of  fascination  for  a 
proverbially  confiding  sex,  he  never  found  it  in 
his  heart,  nor  in  his  wildest  dreams  believed  it 
possible,  to  duplicate  Mrs.  Natchez. 

Her  dress-making  over,  Penelope  developed 
marvels  of  cleanliness,  and  entered  upon  a  cam- 
paign against  her  luxuriant  but  tangled  mane. 
She  possessed  among  her  treasures  a  cracked 
and  bilious  mirror.  Before  this  mendacious 
detractor  she  passed  unlimited  time  in  the 
industrious  combing  and  effective  arrangement 
of  her  raven  tresses.  It  is  interesting,  as  an 
instance  of  the  intuition  of  woman,  that  she 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  53 

merely  pursued  the  man-demoralizing  tactics 
of  the  famous  "  Lorelei,"  of  \vhose  entirely 
poetic  existence  she  was  blissfully  in  ignor- 
ance. 

Finally,  having  carefully  prepared  the  sinews 
of  feminine  warfare  in  the  formal  manner  above 
described,  she  drew  the  picture  of  the  unfor- 
tunately fashionable"  young  lady  from  the 
humiliation  of  the  chimney,  affixed  it  to  a 
tree  with  a  small  "  bowie,"  and  being  geo- 
graphically prevented  from  annihilation  of  the 
lady  by  pure  personal  charm,  engaged  in  vin- 
dictive and  unerring  target-practice  upon  it 
with  a  more  effective  but  no  more  remorseless 
weapon. 

But  I  think  it  was  in  her  treatment  of  the 
owl  that  she  most  palpably  acknowledged  the 
presence  of  Cupid.  She  possessed  a  small 
menagerie  of  native  pets  with  which  her  hith- 
erto undeveloped  affections,  had  been  content. 
In  small  wooden  cages  she  had  immured  at  va- 
rious stages  of  adolescence,  a  dove,  a  mocking- 
bird, a  prairie-dog,  a  diminutive  jackass-rabbit. 
A  somewhat  lively  fancy  in  the  detection 
of  resemblances  had  impelled  her  to  baptize 
these  captives  with  the  titles  of  certain  of  her 


54  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

many  admiring  suitors.  She  shared  the 
Homeric  fascinations  of  the  model  wife  of 
Ulysses.  The  dove  and  the  mocking-bird 
were  cow-men  of  mild  and  languishing  senti- 
mentality in  feminine  matters — Nature's  car- 
pet-knights— the  one  given  to  playing  cooing 
ballads  on  horse-back  with  a  cracked  guitar, 
and  the  other  offensive  tlfrough  a  servile  sem- 
blance of  devotion,  at  spasmodic  intervals, 
on  a  reedy  accordion.  The  marmot  was  Mr. 
James  Wily — the  gambler  ;  the  jack-rabbit  was 
Mr.  Rube  Smart — the  "  cow-puncher." 

But  the  owl, — the  owl !  was  nameless,  typi- 
cal of  that  evasive  silence  which  woman  pre- 
serves in  amatory  matters  of  a  serious  complex- 
ion. Howbeit,  the  desperate  devotion  with 
which  she  sacrificed  before  this  silent,  feathered 
altar  might  have  encouraged  the  ancient  Pythag- 
oras in  his  doctrine  of  metempsychosis. 

She  decorated  him  with  ribbons  and  gar- 
lands ;  she  ignored  his  indifference  ;  she  quailed 
before  the  staring  scrutiny  of  those  great 
eyes,  as  if  she  believed  that  behind  them  lurked 
the  remembrance  of  her  osculatory  weakness. 
Penelope  had  hitherto  enjoyed  the  reputation  of 
uniform  tenderness  toward  dumb  animals,  but, 


A  LONE  STAR* BO-PEEP.  55 

in  her  efforts  to  satisfy  the  exorbitant  appetite 
of  Minerva's  bird,  she  traversed  many  miles 
and  stained  her  immaculate  record  with  the 
blood  of  slaughtered  innocents.  In  the  unself- 
ish inthrallment  of  her  absorbing  passion,  I  am 
even  fearful  that  a  dearth  of  provision  might 
have  turned  her  predatory  intentions  to  her 
former  pets.  The  teeming  life  of  the  wilds 
spared  her  this  additional  guilt,  but  the  ignored 
four  suffered  the  diet  of  departed  fascination. 

One  morning  an  accommodating  teamster 
jumped  down  from  his  box-seat  in  his  "  prairie- 
schooner,"  and  deposited  in  her  trembling  fin- 
gers a  billet-doux ;  she  devoured  its  contents 
with  eager  eyes.  It  was  simply  an  invitation 
to  a  ball  to  take  place  that  evening  at  Eden, 
but  it  was  from  Howe,  and  its  effect  was  alarm- 
ing. 

She  became  earnestly  grave  and  set  about 
appalling  formalities  ;  she  filled  the  clothes- 
boiler  of  the  ranch  and  heated  it  to  a  danger- 
ous temperature  ;  she  removed  all  the  interior 
furnishings  of  her  father's  tent,  tightened  its 
cords,  and  rendered  it  nearly  opaque ;  she  de- 
posited within  it  her  most  elaborate  toilette 
and  an  ambitious  wash-tub.  Then  taking  her 
"six-shooter,"  she  chastely  retreated  within  its 


56  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

precincts,  and  tied  down  the  canvas  opening 
from  within.  This  modern  Diana  recognized 
the  efficiency  of  powder  and  ball  against  a  pos- 
sible Actaeon.  When  she  reappeared  the  effect 
was  dazzling  in  the  extreme. 

That  the  ball  was  held  in  a  vacant  store 
owned  by  Jim  Wily;  that  it  was  illuminated 
by  an  unpardonable  extravagance  in  tallow-dips, 
perched  upon  laths  tacked  to  empty  shelves ; 
that  the  Mite  of  Eden  danced  in  full  equipment 
but  in  the  affluence  of  "  boiled  shirts  "  ;  and 
that  the  social  sub-stratum,  from  every  availa- 
ble window  and  loop-hole,  availed  themselves 
of  a  view  of  the  festivities  in  which  they  were 
not  invited  to  participate,  but  which  they  en- 
deavored to  cloud  by  the  diabolical  tobacco- 
smoke  under  which  they  veiled  their  slighted 
feelings,  is  a  matter  of  memory  among  the  in. 
habitants  of  the  frontier  town.  But  how  Miss 
Penelope  Natchez  was  its  pervading  charm,  how 
she  outshone  by  her  bewildering  appearance 
the  much  be-toileted  fair;  how  she  compelled 
admiration  by  flatly  refusing  to  dance  with  Jim 
Wily,  while  not  hesitating  to  grace  his  enter- 
tainment with  the  effulgence  of  her  presence ; 
how  she  danced  square  dances  with  all  her 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  57 

many  admirers,  but  how  there  was  a  tendency 
to  monotony  in  waltzing  with  Mr.  Faye  Howe, 
was  reported  at  great  length  by  the  ornate 
editor  of  the  Eden  Advertiser,  whose  extrava- 
gant periods  afforded  significant  evidence  of 
the  height  to  which  a  single  privileged  quad- 
rille had  exalted  him.  We  have  lost  our  copy  of 
this  gifted  sheet  or  we  could  not  forbear  tran- 
scribing. But  while  Penelope  and  Faye  were 
approximating  to  a  condition  of  plastic  infatu- 
ation at  this  crowning  social  event  of  the 
frontier  season,  there  were  two  who  departed 
with  far  different  feelings  :  Mr.  Jim  Wily  in 
expressive  indignation  ;  and  Mr.  Rube  Smart  in 
the  embrace  of  the  "  green-eyed  monster." 


VII. 

AN  exceptionally  hot  and  dry  summer 
brought  with  it  a  train  of  disasters  to  the 
stock-men  of  Concho  Co.  The  pitiless  heavens 
denied  rain  ;  the  baked  plain  was  opulent  with 
crumbling  dust;  the  water  in  the  stagnant  pools 
evaporated  to  mere  dimples  of  silver  in  the 
starved  cheeks'  of  the  brown  prairie.  The 


58  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

grass  withered  and  died  before  the  hot  breath 
of  the  sirocco.  An  acrid  smoke  by  day  which 
smarted  the  eyes,  and  an  ominous  glow  in  the 
heavens  at  night,  were  Nature's  telegrams  of  a 
more  fearful  destroyer — the  prairie  fire.  It 
was  a  season  of  great  discouragement  and  ter- 
rible loss,  and  the  tempers  and  deeds  of  men 
harmonized  perfectly  with  their  material  sur- 
roundings. 

The  relations  of  Mr.  Howe  and  Mr.  Smart 
were  necessarily  belligerent.  The  former's  ap- 
parent progress  in  the  affections  of  Miss  Natchez 
effectually  settled  that.  Throughout  the  long, 
dry  season  Rube's  stock  drank  the  water  of 
the  Northern  gentleman's  "  range "  by  the 
hogshead :  at  first,  under  his  armed  surveil- 
lance ;  afterward,  with  the  familiar  effrontery  of 
habit.  At  last,  when  a  further  continuance  of 
this  would  have  left  his  own  woolly  flocks  to 
famish,  Howe  laid  aside  his  customary  caution, 
filled  the  magazine  of  his  "Winchester,"  and 
getting  the  "  first  drop  "  upon  his  persistent 
foe,  coolly  assured  him  of  speedy  conversion 
into  a  human  colander,  if  he  did  not  desist  in- 
stant er.  There  was  a  steely  glitter  in  Howe's 
usually  mild  blue  eye,  aside  from  the  advan- 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  59 

tage  of  his  attitude,  which  was  convincing. 
Mr.  Rube  Smart  accepted  the  resistlessness 
of  the  gentleman's  logic.  He  quietly  with- 
drew. 

This  did  not  prevent  him,  however,  from 
emptying  his  own  carbine  and  "  six-shooter  "  on 
occasional  dark  nights  into  the  crowded  sheep- 
pens  of  the  Northerner.  The  dastardly  cow- 
ardice of  this  act  was  apparently  visited  with 
retribution,  for  Rube's  stock — few  in  number 
and  mostly  acquired  by  conversion,  both  literal 
and  legal — died  by  tens  and  scores.  His 
encounter  with  the  Northerner  had  sufficiently 
convinced  him  that  open  combat  was  not  the 
most  efficient  method  for  revenge. 

Assisted  by  Jim  Wily,  who  still  rankled, 
and  by  Texan  rum  of  phenomenally  bad 
quality,  he  developed  a  scheme,  worthy  of  the 
brain  from  which  it  emanated  and  the  liquor 
by  which  it  was  inspired.  Briefly,  his  plan  was 
to  "  pop  the  question  "  to  Miss  Penelope,  and 
in  the  event  of  her  probable  refusal,  to  pop 
her  very  charming  person  into  a  covered  buggy 
and  forcibly  elope.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to 
say  that  all  this  was  to  be  done  in  the  absence 
of  her  father.  Mr.  Jim  Wily  kindly  offered  to 


60  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

accommodate  his  friend  with  the  necessary 
vehicle.  He  was  not  aware  that  Howe,  during 
the  entire  summer,  had  maintained  a  brave 
fight  against  feminine  fascinations ;  notwith- 
standing a  hermit's  isolation,  and  the  absolute 
cessation  of  epistolary  hostilities  from  the 
fashionably  dressed  young  lady.  He  did  not 
know  either,  that  the  poor  little  namesake  of 
the  illustrious  exemplar  of  Greek  conjugal 
fidelity  was  in  despair  of  ever  hearing  from  the 
faithless  Howe  again,  and  destitute  of  any  con- 
solation save  her  owl,  now  arrived  at  muscular 
maturity,  and  apparently  anxious  to  emulate 
the  gentleman  by  flying  away. 

The  early  fall  was  at  hand,  and  the  rain,  so 
long  withheld,  charged  impatiently  upon  the 
exhausted  earth,  with  a  fury  that  left  a  misty 
haze  in  the  air,  like  the  ghost  of  a  fierce  engage- 
ment. Amid  the  violent  storm,  which  had 
prevailed  intermittently  for  five  days,  Judge 
Natchez,  returning  from  the  settlement  of  a 
local  dispute  in  a  neighboring  town,  received 
the  news  of  the  cow-boy's  designs  upon  his 
daughter  from  a  transient  guest  of  Jim  Wily, 
who  had  overheard  a  conversation  through  the 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  6 1 

sheeting  partition  of  his  primitive  sleeping- 
apartment.  A  Texan  hotel  is  an  ambitious 
rival  of  the  famous  Whispering-Gallery. 

There  was  no  outburst  of  profanity  on  this 
occasion.  He  received  the  details  of  the  plot 
in  that  silence  which  makes  intense  emotion  so 
awe-inspiring ;  but  the  sorry  mount  of  the 
Judge  soon  realized  that  he  had  never  before 
experienced  the  possibilities  of  flagellation  nor 
his  -own  powers  to  overcome  space.  In  the 
height  of  this  mad  ride,  he  saw  through  the 
encircling  mist  a  buggy,  achieving  a  very  com- 
fortable rate  of  speed  along  the  trail-road 
between  himself  and  his  next  neighbor,  and 
proceeding  in  the  direction  of  the  ranch.  His 
face  paled ;  the  line  of  his  jaw  showed  through 
the  tense  skin  ;  his  knees  smote  the  sides  of 
his  horse ;  but  slipping  his  right  arm  free  from 
the  sleeve  of  his  "  slicker,"  he  drew  a  self- 
cocking  Colt's  revolver — the  gift  of  a  grateful 
client,  and  rode  on  to  intercept  him  with  the 
sternness  of  fate. 

Rube  Smart — for  he  it  was — seeing  the 
Judge,  and  recognizing  him  immediately, 
reined  in  his  horse  with  his  left  hand,  and, 
leaning  out  of  the  buggy,  allowed  his  right  to 


62  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

drop  mechanically  to  his  hip.  The  gesture 
indicated  the  locality  of  a  weapon — not  a  self- 
cocker — but  equally  speedy  in  the  gentleman's 
hands.  He  had  long  ago  filed  the  notches  in  the 
tumbler  of  the  lock,  and  was  wont  to  discharge 
it  by  the  mere  leverage  of  his  powerful  thumb 
upon  the  hammer. 

A  rent  in  the  "  slicker"  of  the  horseman  dis- 
closed his  masked  design.  Frontier  etiquette 
recognizes  no  distinction  between  the  drawing 
of  a  weapon  and  its  actual  discharge ;  the  one 
implies  the  other.  There  \vere  two  almost  sim- 
ultaneous reports  from  within  hand-shaking  dis- 
tance. A  frantic  horse,  riderless,  and  with  leap- 
ing stirrups,  dashed  wildly  away  in  the  direction 
of  the  ranch.  A  buggy,  from  the  spinning  wheels 
of  which  the  water  flew,  went  careering  madly 
over  the  water-soaked  prairie.  The  avenging 
father  and  his  victim  lay  dead,  with  the  rain 
pelting  upon  their  ghastly  faces. 

And  even  at  that  moment,  Penelope,  await- 
ing anxiously  at  the  window  her  sire's  return, 
marveled  how  much  the  coursing  drops  upon 
the  pane  resembled  tears. 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  63 

VIII. 

A  BOUT  the  time  of  the  occurrence  of  the  trag- 
I~V  edy  mentioned  in  the  last  chapter,  Mr.  Faye 
Howe — seated  at  the  stove  of  the  hospitable 
Macpherson,  a  genial  Scot  whose  store  was  at 
once  post-office  and  general  base  of  supplies  for 
the  town  of  Eden — was  engaged  in  contempla- 
tion of  his  steaming  boots,  and  in  cynical  med- 
itation upon  the  inconstancy  of  woman.  The 
ring  of  native  Texans  around  this  red-hot  dis- 
penser of  comfort,  was  practical  in  its  lamen- 
tations over  the  danger  of"  rises  "  in  the  water- 
holes  and  creeks.  At  each  lull  in  the  conver- 
sation, the  expectorant  hiss  of  the  assailed  stove 
seemed  at  once  to  deride  and'threaten  their  fears. 
Mr.  Howe  was  feeling  classical  on  this  occa- 
sion ;  he  was  silent,  and  supported  his  own  expe- 
rience with  the  riper  judgment  of  Virgil : — 
"  Varium  et  mutabile  femina  !  "  The  immedi- 
ate predisposing  cause  of  so  much  mental  com- 
munion and  this  Latin  summary  was  probably 
the  receipt  that  morning  of  the  wedding-cards 
of  the  young  lady  who  has  occupied  photo- 
graphic prominence  in  these  pages.  Not  that 


64  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

Mr.  Howe  was  particularly  sensitive  to  the 
somewhat  marked  flavor  of  the  lady's  social 
etiquette,  but  because  he  reflected  with  par- 
donable disparagement  upon  the  apparent  read- 
iness with  which  she  had  hitherto  acknowledged, 
in  notes  of  superlative  perfume  and  tinted 
paper,  certain  gifts  of  jewelry  which  his  prodi- 
gal generosity  had  in  time  past  felt  called  upon 
to  tender.  It  was  perfectly  human  and  natu- 
ral, under  the  circumstances,  that  he  should 
dwell  with  gratified  malice  upon  the  far-from- 
flattering  portrait  he  had  formerly  drawn  of 
the  gentleman  who  had  recently  felt  called 
upon  to  accept  such  grave  responsibilities.  It 
was  perhaps  the  epistolary  reflection  which  led 
him  to  dwell  with  gratified  contrast  upon  the ' 
apparent  sincerity  of  Miss  Penelope's  attach- 
ment. Howe  was  thoroughly  conscious  of  cer- 
tain billets-doux,  which — albeit  ungrammatical 
and  crippled  in  orthography — were  genuine  and 
unperfumed.  A  lack  of  self-prejudice  in  per- 
sonal matters  made  him  execrate  himself  for 
failure  to  acknowledge  these  gratuitous  pledges. 
After  this  condemnatory  introspection  he 
walked  to  the  window.  Outside  it  was  raining 
heavily. 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  65 

As  he  stood  gazing  out  at  the  pouring  rain,  he 
was  struck  by  the  attitude  of  resigned  fatalism 
exhibited  by  his  patient  steed.  The  gentle- 
man was  conscious  of  entertaining  a  peculiar 
sentiment  for  this  animal.  It  was  not  affection, 
for  Howe  was  singular  in  this,  that  he  had 
never  been  able  to  love  anything  which  did  not 
first  exhibit  toward  him  marked  evidence  of 
attachment.  Whatever  "Oscar"  was,  he  was 
not  demonstrative.  He  had  been  first  attracted 
to  him  by  that  stern  practicality  which  obtains 
in  matters  of  horse-flesh — his  record  for  speed 
and  endurance.  The  mustang  had  been  victor 
in  many  a  prairie  "  scrub-race,"  and  his  fame 
as  a  swimmer  of  unfordable  rivers  had  gone 
abroad  through  the  county.  Later,  Howe  had 
come  to  respect  him  for  his  keen  instincts. 
Entering  the  state  with  Northern  enterprise 
and  that  lack  of  woodcraft  proverbial  of  a 
"tenderfoot,"  a  carelessness  in  riding  over  his  • 
boundless  "  range  "  had  often  compelled  him 
to  resort  to  a  compass  situated  in  that  long 
barrel  head,  to  prevent  passing  the  night  on 
the  bald  prairie.  Then,  a  philosophical  sub- 
mission to  the  inevitable  ;  a  stolid  patience  of 
misfortune  ;  withal,  a  serene  indifference  of 


66  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

fate  had  compelled  respect.  He  fancifully 
believed  that  the  horse  reciprocated  the  senti- 
ment, and  that  he  had  faith  in  his  master  besides. 
This  had  induced  him  on  one  occasion  to  record 
a  vehement  oath  that  death  alone  should  part 
them. 

The  equine  embodiment  of  so  much  good 
sense  and  appreciation  had  been  the  recent 
recipient  of  unusual  consolation  with  him. 
He  had  just  stored  away  for  future  assimilation 
six  quarts  of  Texan  oats  of  a  quality  which  he 
had  hitherto  doubted  the  state's  capacity  to 
produce.  But  his  acquaintance  with  that  cov- 
eted article  was  remote — his  regular  dietary 
luxury  being  "  corn  in  the  cob  " — and  his  brave 
heart,  although  it  inhabited  no  elegant  exterior, 
was  correspondingly  cheered.  Notwithstand- 
ing an  unusual  accentuation  of  head  and  tail- 
droop  to  the  rainy  weather — of  which  he,  in 
common  with  humanity  had,  of  late,  experi- 
enced an  entire  sufficiency — it  was  merely  in 
calm  recognition  of  the  unalterableness  of  nat- 
ural forces.  "  Oscar  "  was  a  pronounced  fatal- 
ist. It  is  quite  possible  that  certain  reasoning 
sentimentalists  might  have  argued  from  the 
humility  of  his  attitude  a  possible  prayer  of 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  6f 

thankfulness  for  an  unprecedented  "  square 
meal."  This  is  entirely  a  mistake.  Mr.  Howe 
glanced  over  the  almost  grotesque  points  of 
the  faithful  animal.  His  ambitious  shoulders 
and  unusually  long  fore-legs  suggested  the 
giraffe.  Latterly  he  was  mildly  inclined  to 
slope.  One  might  have  been  pardoned  in 
imagining  that  Nature  had  contemplated  a 
camelopard,  but,  having  perfected  the  heart 
first,  was  unwilling  to  place  it  in  the  anatomy 
of  any  creature  except  the  next  to  man — the 
horse.  As  the  gentleman  dwelt  upon  an  equine 
courage  that  was  almost  manly,  and  accepted 
his  suggestion  of  dripping  boot-leather,  he  was 
appalled  at  the  sarcasm  of  calling  him  "  Oscar 
Wilde."  Why  was  it?  He  distinctly  saw  the 
animal  raise  his  head  and  look  him  full  in  the 
face. 

A  man,  pale  with  excitement,  at  this  moment 
ran  into  the  store,  and  announced  that  he 
had  just  found  Judge  Natchez  and  Rube 
Smart  lying  dead  upon  the  prairie.  The  door 
slammed  violently.  Mr.  Howe  was  gone. 

As  he  loosened  the  lariat  of  his  mustang  he 
was  prompted  to  look  again  into  his  intelligent 
eyes.  What  was  it  he  saw  there  ?  Who  knows  ! 


68  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

Yet  as  he  settled  himself  in  his  Mexican  saddle, 
he  felt  that  sublime  consciousness  of  the  privi- 
leged equestrian — that  horse  and  master  were 
in  accord. 

That  ride  through  flying  mud,  through 
splashing  water,  over  the  wet  prairie  !  Here 
and  there  swollen  pools  along  the  way  had 
overflowed  the  trail  in  blank  and  treacherous 
sheets  through  which  his  horse  dashed  with  the 
fury  of  an  angry  billow,  leaving  the  track  of 
their  fierce  progress  outlined  in  flying  spray  and 
hurrying  curves  of  bubble  and  foam.  At  times 
the  yielding  soil  of  the  beaten  track  forced  him 
to  break  his  way  amid  chaparral  and  copse,  and 
through  thin  files  of  mesquite  and  live  oak, 
standing  like  storm-beaten  sentinels  in  silent 
gray,  the  panting  of  his  laboring  steed,  the 
cadence  of  plunging  hoof-beats  swept  by  un- 
challenged. As  he  rode  on  without  whip  or 
spur,  and  felt  the  resistless  energy  of  those 
grand  muscles,  playing  like  an  engine  beneath 
him,  he  was  filled  with  admiration  for  his  noble 
horse. 

His  watch  told  him  that  the  obscured  sun 
was  but  "an  hour  high"  as  he  passed  the 
pecan  motte  and  the  dismantled  cow-pen  lying 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  69 

hidden  within  its  depths.  The  line  of  water- 
holes  that  he  had  formerly  known  was  brim- 
ming with  water,  and  Nature's  chalices  seemed 
eager  to  burst  their  emerald  cups  and  overflow 
the  intervening  space.  He  thought  of  the  ranch 
at  the  junction  of  the  two  creeks — so  negli- 
gently placed.  He  thought  of  the  orphan-ed 
Penelope.  He  might  yet  be  too  late  ! 

Just  as  he  descended  the  gaunt  divide  which 
sloped  gently  down  to  the  now  visible  dwelling, 
he  heard  a  noise  before  him,  like  the  wind 
sighing  through  thick  foliage.  He  knew  it  in- 
stinctively and  caught  his  breath  ;  the  line  of 
water-holes  was  a  foaming  creek.  Only  to  his 
horse's  knees  as  he  dashed  through  it,  but  he 
was  aware  of  the  danger  in  those  latitudes,  and 
shuddered  as  he  galloped  up  the  little  rise  and 
into  the  live  oak  clump.  Throwing  his  mus- 
tang's bridle  over  a  neighboring  post,  he 
ran  to  the  door  of  the  ranch.  He  knocked. 
No  reply.  He  knocked  again — louder.  Silence 
still.  With  frontier  politeness  he  turned 
the  knob  and  entered  the  young  lady's  bed- 
chamber. 

The  room  was  twilight  dim.  Penelope  had 
thrown  herself  upon  the  bed  and  lay  asleep.  As 


70  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

he  entered  she  opened  her  eyes  wearily,  and 
rose  with  a  sudden  flush. 

"  Why,  Faye  !  "  was  all  she  said. 

He  took  the  little,  brown  hands  in  both  his 
own. 

"  The  creeks  are  rising,  dear ;  I  have  come  to 
saye  you !  " 

She  ran  to  the  window  and  cast  a  startled 
look  without ;  she  threw  open  the  door  and 
saw  the  long  flats  about  the  smaller  "  branch  " 
submerged  and  threatening  ;  she  came  back  to 
him  with  a  pallor  in  her  face  that  Howe  had 
never  seen  there  before.  He  smiled  reassuringly. 

"  Do  not  despair,"  he  said.  "  My  sorrel  is 
outside.  Are  you  ready  ?  " 

"  One  moment !  "  the  girl  answered,  grasping 
the  sombrero  dusty  with  neglect  and  an  old 
rubber-coat  of  her  father's.  She  threw  them  on 
hastily  and  ran  out  into  the  storm.  Howe  was 
left  in  the  little  room. 

Penelope  ran  to  her  little  cages ;  she  freed 
the  dove  and  the  mocking-bird,  which  availed 
themselves  of  the  privilege.  Hesitating  a 
second,  she  finally  drew  the  confining  barriers 
for  the  prairie-dog  and  jack-rabbit ;  they  cow- 
ered in  their  open  prisons.  Catching  up  the 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  71 

full-plumaged  owl,  the  faithful  little  arms 
attempted  to  carry  him  to  the  horse.  The 
ungrateful  wretch  fluttered  fiercely,  broke  from 
her  tender  clasp,-  and  flapped  heavily  away.  She 
returned  to  Howe,  who  was  waiting  in  the  sad- 
dle. 

He  turned  his  heavy  box-stirrup  outward  a 
little  and  reached  his  right  hand  to  her.  Pene- 
lope put  a  trusting  little  foot  on  his ;  she 
mounted  behind  him.  Two  confiding  arms 
were  thrown  around  him.  I  wot  the  behavior 
of  the  gentleman  was  in  marked  contrast  to 
that  of  the  fugitive  owl ;  he  displayed  no  dis- 
position to  escape  that  gentle  pressure.  Thus 
they  rode  out  in  the  brief  Southern  twilight. 

As  they  descended  the  slight  rise,  his  heart 
sank  as  he  saw  the  larger  creek:  it  was  running 
with  the  fierceness  of  a  turbulent  river, — the 
current  setting  with  the  trend  of  its  valley  bed, 
and,  therefore,  not  always  in  the  middle  of  the 
stream.  The  roaring  waters  were  plunging  up 
the  slight  declivity  foot  by  foot.  He  glanced 
back — the  lesser  branch  and  its  encircling  flats 
were  moving  rapidly,  the  tremendous  volume 
of  water  cutting  them  off  in  the  rear.  The 
only  chance  of  permanent  safety  Faye  Howe 


72  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

knew  was  in  the  great  divide,  stretching  before 
him  dimly  like  a  despairing  hope.  Something 
of  the  desperation  of  the  coming  struggle  was 
in  him,  as  he  turned  in  his  saddle. 

"  Little  one,"  he  said,  throwing  a  strong  arm 
around  her  in  the  gathering  twilight,  "  it  is  far — 
far  worse  than  I  thought.  Your  father  has  not 
returned.  Look  at  me,  darling  !  He  never  will, 
he  never  can.  Shall  it  be  mine  to  take  a  wife 
with  me  to  the  other  side?" 

He  felt  the  pretty  brown  arms  tighten  their 
clasp ;  a  little  head-  sank  upon  his  shoulder. 
There  came  to  his  listening  ear  a  whisper  fra- 
grant with  its  memories  of  buffalo  clover: 

"  Faye,  I  reckon  so!' 

He  had  not  hitherto  detected  the  latent 
poetry  of  this  peculiar  Texan  idiom. 

"  Oscar,"  who  had  halted  upon  the  sloping 
declivity  as  sternly  as  if  carved  in  stone,  im- 
mediately shivered  and  gave  a  loud  snort  ;  it 
struck  both  ominously.  Howe  leaned  forward 
over  his  strong  neck  and  patted  the  animal's 
ear,  very  much  as  an  operator  taps  his  tele- 
graphic key.  It  was  an  old  familiar  gesture, 
understood  between  them  both.  The  mustang 
sprang  forward  and  was  soon  breasting  the 


A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP.  73 

hurrying  flood,  but  sinking*  deeper  than  when 
the  water  first  swirled  around  him.  Howe  dis- 
engaged himself  from  his  stirrups,  and  whisper- 
ing to  Penelope  slipped  from  the  saddle,  swing- 
ing off  by  the  girth.  She  took  his  place. 

And  now  the  rushing,  turbulent  river  began 
to  bring  down  on  its  current  fragments  of  creek- 
margin  and  grassy  debris.  A  snake  swam  past 
them  in  tortuous  fright.  Small  sticks  of  timber 
drifted  sideways  with  the  boiling  flood,  or  shot 
swiftly  past,  flying  like  darts — end-on.  The  raw- 
hide-bound cow-pen  was  breaking  up  and  giving 
way.  Swimming  thus  on  his  horse's  left,  hold- 
ing on  by  the  saddle-girth,  and  shielding  with 
his  own  body  the  tender  limbs  of  her  who  was 
to  be  his  bride,  Howe  shuddered  as  he  thought 
of  the  great  pecans.  At  that  instant  he  heard 
a  loud  crash  up  the  creek :  his  fears  were  pro- 
phetic. 

Already  under  the  lee  of  the  great  divide  he 
was  feeling  a  rising  joy  in  his  heart,  when  he 
noticed  an  uneasy  movement  of  his  mustang's 
head.  He  strained  his  eyes  through  the  gloom, 
but  could  see  nothing.  Just  as  he  felt  his 
horse's  fore-feet  strike  the  submerged  prairie- 
bottom,  a  dark,  ominous  shape,  swinging  irre- 


74  A  LONE  STAR  BO-PEEP. 

sistibly  with  the  cnrrent  on  a  fulcrum  caused 
by  the  resisting  bank,  struck  the  brave  head  of 
the  noble  steed  with  the  force  of  a  thunderbolt. 
The  stricken  neck  bowed  mutely  before  the  great 
destroyer,  and  with  a  single  convulsive  sigh  the 
doomed  animal  yielded  up  his  life.  The  trunk 
of  a  huge  pecan  that  had  caught  in  aside  eddy 
drifted  slowly  past  and  out  into  the  rush  of  the 
whirling  creek,  like  some  black  and  sullen 
leviathan.  The  eternal  decree  of  Fate  was 
done  !  But  Penelope  and  Faye,  left  thus  in 
the  rapidly  shoaling  water,  were  saved.  The 
North  and  South  clasped  hands  at  last. 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 


FjESPONDENCY  was  rampant  at  San  Saba. 
•L'  Even  at  the  Crossing,  where  solemn 
pines  and  ascetic  hemlocks  hung  breathlessly 
above  the  silent  river,  and  threatened  with 
suicidal  tendencies  its  cloistered  gloom,  an 
atmosphere  of  discontent  infected  the  reflec- 
tive traveler.  As  he  drew  near  town,  this 
impression  deepened.  There  was  a  long  line  of 
heavily  saddled  horses  in  front  of  the  "  Pasear 
House  "  that  had  neighed,  and  bit  and  kicked 
one  another  dejectly  since  early  morning.  Its 
querulous  proprietor — in  spite  of  these  apparent 
signs  of  patronage — was  seated  idly  upon  the 
front  gallery  in  an  attitude  of  hopeless  hypo- 
chondria. Unfortunately  the  opinion  of  his 
guests  was  skeptical.  "  Baitin'  buzzards," — the 
blacksmith  had  remarked  to  an  appreciative 
audience  about  his  anvil,  attracted  thither  by 


76  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

the  brilliancy  of  his  professional  and  profane 
pyrotechnics,  and  sympathizing  with  him  in  the 
manifest  intent  to  include  the  daily  bill  of  fare 
at  the  Pasear  House  in  his  scathing  comment- 
ary. 

The  steps  about  Hackett's  Grocery  were 
impassable,  in  consequence  of  their  freight  of 
long-booted  humanity  devoted  to  gloomy 
whittling  and  expectoration.  The  only  hilar- 
ity available  was  to  be  found  in  the  saloons  ;  and 
this,  being  born  of  alcohol,  was  uncertain  and 
spasmodic.  Joe  Treddle,  who  spent  most  of 
his  time  in  making  trips  on  his  bicycle  between 
his  harness-shop  and  the  bar  of  the  "  Two 
Brothers,"  as  he  mounted  for  the  thirteenth 
pilgrimage,  diffused  a  gloom  among  the  assem- 
bled spectators  that  not  even  unremitting  devo- 
tion, since  sunrise,  to  a  beverage  retailed  under 
the  suggestive  title  of  the  "  Tanglefoot  Persua- 
der," seemed  likely  to  dissipate.  It  was  not 
only  -the  regularity  of  Joe's  potations,  but  his 
manner  of  approaching  them,  that  secured  for 
him  the  distinction  of  being  the  "  fastest  man 
in  the  settlement." 

But  I  hasten  to  record  that  the  cause  of  this 
universal  dejection  was  neither  political  nor 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  77 

pecuniary.  Since  the  last  election  for  sheriff, 
when  the  rival  candidates  had  settled  the 
unpleasantness  of  a  trifling  discrepancy  in  the 
returns  by  an  interchange  of  personal  compli- 
ments and  "  six  shooters  "  at  the  "  Two  Broth- 
ers," and  satisfactorily  established  the  claims  of 
the  party  most  proficient  in  the  use  of  his 
weapon,  the  harmony  of  public  feeling  had  been 
undisturbed  by  the  sacred  privilege  of  the  ballot. 
Although  in  other  respects  a  frontier  commu- 
nity, this  cheerful  application  of  the  modern 
doctrine  of  "  survival  of  the  fittest "  was  at 
once  recognized  as  convenient  and  indisputa- 
ble. 

Nor  was  the  commercial  outlook  less  flatter- 
ing. The  season  had  been  a  prosperous  one 
for  stock,  and  the  market  prices  of  wool  and 
cattle  never  so  generally  satisfactory.  But 
it  would  seem  that  there  were  grievances 
beyond  the  local  remedies  of  municipal  seren- 
ity and  flush  times.  Miss  Cordelia  Delancey 
was  engaged  to  be  married,  and  the  day  for  the 
wedding  was  at  hand.  As  half  the  inhabitants 
of  the  town  of  San  Saba  and  the  surrounding 
country  had  been  either  ardent  admirers  of 
Miss  Delancey,  or  unsuccessful  suitors  for  the 


78  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

lady's  hand,  disappointment  and  despair  were 
epidemic. 

It  does  not  necessarily  follow  that  Miss 
Delancey  was  either  peri  or  paragon.  That  she 
was  unquestionably  attractive,  no  one  who 
came  within  range  of  her  eloquent  brown  eyes, 
brilliant  color,  and  fascinating  manners  could 
reasonably  gainsay.  That  she  was  a  decided 
brunette,  and  that  she  felt  in  her  own  heart  a 
proud  consciousness  that  this  fact  alone  made 
her  more  than  a  match  for  a  dozen  sickly  and 
sentimental  blondes,  were  also  apparent  to  the 
ordinary  observer.  But  when  the  curious 
visitor,  who  had  had  pulse  quickened  and 
imagination  fired  by  tales  of  this  wild  rose 
of  the  valley,  completed  .his  critical  inventory 
of  her  charms,  it  was  with  a  conviction  that  he 
had  met  other  maidens  equally  irresistible. 
Perhaps,  had  he  remained  longer,  he  might 
have  been  less  positive.  For  Miss  Cordelia 
possessed  the  advantage  of  an  unattractive  envi- 
ronment, and  graced  a  circle  to  which  the 
application  of  the  epithet  "  ornamental "  was 
the  language  of  gallantry  rather  than  fact. 
And  there  is  abundant  testimony  that  she 
improved  upon  acquaintance.  It  is  said  that 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  79 

few  were  able  to  resist  her  deprecatory  man- 
ner of  saying  "  Now,  Mr.  Treddle  !  "  ;  that  her 
"  Yes  Sirs,"  were  delicious  in  their  implied 
flattery  of  her  auditor;  that  her  very  exclam- 
ations—the peculiarly  feminine  one  of  "  Why, 
goodness  gracious ! " — were  so  musical  and 
thrilling  that  they  encouraged  her  less  attract- 
ive neighbors  in  a  surprising  wealth  of  inter- 
jection ;  and  that  even  the  pangs  of  despised 
love  and  ultimate  rejection  lost  much  of  their 
bitterness  by  the  delicacy  of  her  refusal. 

All  this  may  be  readily  imagined  ;  for  Miss 
Delancey  possessed  that  rare  feminine  accom- 
plishment of  retaining  the  friendship  of  her 
unsuccessful  suitors,  and  the  town  rang  with 
her  praises.  She  appeared  judiciously  to  curb 
the  ardent  advances  of  the  enamored,  to  com- 
pel a  subdued  and  chastened  attitude  of 
devotion,  and  from  serene  and  inaccessible 
heights  to  smile  sweetly  upon  the  respectful 
admiration  she  elicited. 

She  had  the  indispensable  requisite  of  the 
successful  actress.  In  a  settlement  unused  to 
dramatic  influences,  Miss  Cordelia  Delancey 
unquestionably — "drew"  And  as  she  peered 
through  the  shutters  of  her  little  room  above 


8o  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

the  front  gallery,  on  her  bridal  morning,  Miss 
Delancey  really  could  not  remember,  when, — to 
adopt  still  further  the  forcible  language  of  the 
boards — she  had  not  had  a  "full  house."  She 
could  not  remember  when  the  little  rail  fence 
across  the  road  had  not  been  picturesque  with 
tethered  horses,  and  the  front  gallery  equally 
picturesque  with  their  owners  in  every  attitude 
of  hopeless  and  inthralling  passion. 

And  as  she  reflected  thus — although  it  was 
her  bridal  morning — I  fear  she  heaved  a  tender 
little  sigh — a  mere  ghost  of  regret,  to  be  sure, 
but  even  so  reluctantly  does  the  feminine  mind 
resign  the  thought  of  dominion.  For  those 
"serene  and  inaccessible  heights,"  above  alluded 
to,  were  now  effectually  scaled.  At  least  it  is 
not  six  weeks  since  Miss  Delancey  acknowledged 
as  much  ;  first,  to  the  young  ranchman,  Mr. 
Ridge  Johnson,  tall,  blue-eyed,  and  blonde- 
mustached — the  living  counterpart  of  Cordelia — 
on  a  certain  eventful  evening  in  June,  when  the 
moon,  half  veiled  in  clouds,  swung  low  over  the 
pines  above  the  river,  and  when,  to  the  eyes  of 
the  young  man  upon  the  front  gallery,  the  pale 
face,  over  which  the  shadows  of  the  honey- 
suckle drifted,  seemed  quite  as  heavenly  as  the 


THE  M YS TER  Y  OP  SA AT  SA BA.  Si 

planet.  And  second,  to  old  man  Delancey — 
rough,  unlettered,  and  profane,  but  not  the 
least  of  his  daughter's  admirers — in  the  staring, 
truthful  sunlight  of  the  following  morning, 
when  with  crest  somewhat  lowered,  and  her 
brave,  brown  ey.es  a  little  downcast,  she  had 
presented  the  gallant  of  her  choice. 

"  An'  so  ye  reckons  to  git  married,  Cordy  ;  to 
turn  loose  an'  quit  the  ole  man  ;  "  remarked 
her  father  mournfully,  as  the  eyes  that  had 
dwelt  mutely  upon  his  daughter's  face  while 
she  was  speaking,  wandered  away  to  the  river, 
and  seemed  to  gather  a  vague  trouble  as  he 
gazed. — "  Wai,  I  don't  say  I  ain't  been  ex- 
pectin'  of  it,  darter ;  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  'low  but 
wot  it's  nateral  an'  womanlike,  an'  dad-blamed 
ef  ye  ain't  hed  a  sight  o'  temptation  too,  with  all 
the  boys  'twixt  here  and  Paint  Rock  cavortin' 
'round  an'  keepin'  yer  kempeny.  But  nowthet 
ye've  actooally  made  a  ch'ice  " — he  paused, 
for  a  certain  tremor  in  the  voice,  entirely  incon- 
sistent with  his  usual  rough  manner,  had  made 
his  daughter  raise  her  beautiful  eyes  to  his — 
"  now  thet  ye've  actooally  made  a  ch'ice,  it 
ain't  in  me  to  say  thet  it  don't  take  the  ole 
man  pretty  nigh." 


8  2        .       Tlf£  MYSTERY  OP  SAAT  SABA. 

"  Why  you  dear,  old,  blessed  father ! "  ex- 
claimed Miss  Delancey  affectionately,  taking 
the  old  man  by  the  lapels  of  his  ducking  jacket, 
and  by  this  peculiarly  feminine  style  of  bondage 
endeavoring  to  peer  into  the  dull  eyes  that 
resolutely  avoided  hers, — "  you  dear,  old, 
blessed,  stupid  father !  You  don't  suppose 
Cordy's  going  to  leave  you  for  good  and  all  ?  " 

Whether  old  Delancey  recognized  in  this 
womanly  appeal  the  familiar  sophistry  by  which 
an  artful  sex  attempts  to  disguise  the  harshness 
of  existing  facts,  is  debatable,  but  he  evaded 
the  issue  by  suddenly  shifting  his  ground. 

"  An*  this  yer's  the  shrimp,  Cordy,  thet  you've 
picked  out  at  last,  after  all  thepiany  playin'  an' 
goin's  on  ez  hez  been  into  this  yer  house 
sence  I  built  it  ?  "  he  inquired,  facing  abruptly 
round  with  critical  practicality,  and  bringing  his 
disparaging  eyes  suddenly  to  bear  upon  the 
embarrassed  fianct,  as  if  he  were  a  discreditable 
bullock,  or  an  unpromising  sheep  ; — "  this  yer's 
the  light-haired  shrimp,  arter  Joe  Treddle,  an' 
Blacksmith  George,  an'  Storekeeper  Hackett, 
an'  the  proprietor  of  the  Pasear,  an'  all  the  rest 
of  the  likely  chaps  ez  hez  been  cracked  arter 
you  the  last  six  year." 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  83 

"  Wai,  dad-burn  me  fur  a  tenderfoot,  ef  gals 
ain't  ez  cur'ous  an'  onsartin  ez  a  Government 
mule — the  best  onto  'em,  an*  thet  air  a  fact  ! 

"  Howsomever,"  he  added,  after  inspecting 
the  abashed  young  man  with  pensive  delibera- 
tion and  wide-mouthed  astonishment — "  ef  yer 
taste,  Cordy,  runs  to  sorrels  an'  light  colored 
cattle,  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  gainsay  it.  It's  you  ez 
is  a-gettin'  married  an'  not  me,  thank  God  !  " 
(This  pious  utterance  was  probably  due  to  a 
vivid  recollection  of  the  infelicity  of  his  own 
marital  experience  with  the  now  deceased  Mrs. 
Delancey.)  "  I  was  allus  tuk  with  bays  and 
ches'nuts  myself,  but  ef  you've  laid  off  to  marry 
this  yer  cream-colored  hoss,  I  reckon  I'll  stan' 
by  yer.  Them  5,000  head  o' steers  I  promised 
ye  an'  the  Big  Brady  Ranch  is  your'n  when- 
ever ye  want  'em,  so  it  don't  matter  much  how 
the  young  feller  is  heeled,  I  reckon.  Now  I 
look  at  him,  he's  likelier  than  I  reckoned  at 
fust,  an'  arter  all,  ye  can't  allus  tell  a  critter  by 
his  color.  Shake,  son  !  " 

And  extending  a  heavy  hand  to  the  astounded 
prospective  son-in-law,  the  old  man  welcomed 
him  with  a  characteristic  grip,  and  the  betrothal  • 
received  the  paternal  sanction. 


$4  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

This  was  only  six  weeks  ago,  and  now  the 
wedding  was  imminent.  Social  events  pro- 
ceed with  rapid  strides  upon  the  frontier,  where 
towns  spring  up  in  a  night  like  the  palace  of 
Aladdin.  Howbeit,  Miss  Delancey  did  not 
hasten  to  pour  the  tidings  of  her  engagement 
into  the  ear  of  confiding  womanhood,  as  her 
more  highly  civilized  sister  would  probably  have  • 
done.  A  disposition  to  mutual  confidence  in 
matters  of  the  heart,  indulged  in  at  the  mature 
age  of  ten,  and  resulting  in  premature  advertise- 
ment among  the  gossips  of  the  little  town,  had 
made  her  skeptical  in  reference  to  feminine 
oaths  of  secrecy.  On  the  contrary,  she  kept 
the  story  of  her  new-found  happiness  strictly 
to  herself.  But  the  spectacle  of  Mr.  Ridge 
Johnson's  mustang,  nervously  pawing  the  earth 
in  solitude  before  the  little  rail-fence,  and  the 
conventional — "Not  at  home," — that  social 
falsehood  which  penetrates  even  the  sincerity 
of  the  frontier,  soon  awakened  San  Saba  to  a 
realization  of  the  disquieting  truth. 

Strange  to  say,  the  first  definite  information 
came  from  old  Delancey.  This  was  when,  after 
mature  deliberation,  he  remembered  that  he 
"  hed  a  brother  back  in  Virginny  who  was  the 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  85 

father  o'  two  darters  thet  'lowed  to  sling  more 
style  than  any  gals  in  the  States,  an'  he  jest 
nat'rally  reckoned  now  thet  hed  turn  loose  an' 
show  'em."  It  was  then  that  the  demon  of 
social  rivalry  entered  the  bosom  of  Delancey, 
and  he  resolved  upon  issuing  "  invites  to  the 
weddin"  This  was  no  easy  task  in  a  com- 
munity where  the  etiquette  of  the  process  was 
overlooked  in  the  completeness  of  the  result. 
Assisted  by  the  editor  of  the  "San  Saba 
Criterion,"  the  following  statement  was  pre- 
pared after  much  thought  and  study  : — 

MR.  REUBEN  DELANCEY 

AT  HOME, 
At  9:30  A.M.  April  20,  1880. 

San  Saba,  Texas. 
Miss  Cordelia  Delancey.  Mr.  Ridge  Johnson. 

When  this  indefinite  announcement  of  the 
impending  ceremony — printed  by  the  obliging 
editor  upon  pink  letter-paper — flew  North,  and 
surprised  the  two  ultra-fashionable  young  ladies 
for  whose  confusion  it  had  been  evolved,  its 
effects  were  not  alarmingly  disastrous. 

Miss  Jessie  Delancey— playing  tennis  with 
another  fashionable  young  creature  of  the 


86  THE  MYSTER  Y  OF  SAN  SABA. 

opposite  sex,  who  rivaled  her  in  a  costume 
more  appropriate  for  surf-bathing  than  any  other 
obvious  use — said  she  "  didn't  doubt  her  Uncle 
Rube  was  home,  and  she  hoped  he'd  stay  there." 
Miss  Flora,  lazily  reclining  in  a  hammock  upon 
the  broad  veranda,  remarked  that  it  was  "  really 
too  early  in  the  morning  for  them  to  expect  her 
to  call  on  the  old  gentleman  under  the  circum- 
stances," and  dismissed  the  matter  languidly  in 
true  society  fashion. 

Howbeit,  old  Delancey,  thousands  of  miles 
away  upon  the  frontier,  reflected  none  the  less 
complacently  upon  the  convincing  proof  of 
social  prestige  he  had  been  able  to  send  his 
brother's  children. 

"  I  reckon  thet'll  start  'em,"  he  remarked  to 
Miss  Cordelia  one  afternoon,  after  a  long  inter- 
val devoted  to  profound  reverie  and  involuntary 
chuckling.  "  When  them  gals  of  Bob's  gets 
that  yer  invite  I  sent  'em,  they'll  be  right  smart 
of  a  dust.  I  kin  see  yer  cousin  Flo,  who  air 
old  enough,  Cordy,  to  be  yer  mother,  and  who 
war  scarin'  all  the  young  fellers  by  carryin'  sich 
heavy  sail  afore  I  left  the  States — I  kin  see  her 
jest  a-tearin'  her  hair  an'  a-snatchin'  herself 
bald-headed  from  this  yer  gallery.  As  fur 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  87 

Jessie,  she  ain't  no  'count  nuther,  but  she'll  be 
tol'ble  riled,  I  reckon.  And  what  ails  them 
children  anyway,  Cordy  ?  They  don't  seem  to 
take  with  the  boys,  nohow.  Bob's  done  well 
'nuff,  but  they  hain't.  An'  ef  I  ain't  hed  no 
political  honors  nur  wanted  none,  I  kin  buy 
thet  father  o'  their'n  out  and  twenty  like  him. 
I'd  jest  nat'rally  like  to  know  what  they  air 
a-gittin'  at." 

But  if  old  Delancey's  imagination  was  unre- 
liable in  estimating  the  grief  of  his  nieces, 
there  was  no  disputing  its  accuracy  in  matters 
of  material  prosperity.  Plain  in  appearance, 
simple  in  manner  as  even  the  humblest  of  the 
many  cow-boys  he  employed,  none  but  an  eye 
skilled  in  detecting  the  austerities  of  the 
frontier  cattle-king  would  have  known  him  for 
one  of  the  wealthiest  in  the  State.  Yet  such 
was  he. 

The  Big  Brady  Ranch,  already  alluded  to, 
lying  just  fifty  miles  from  San  Saba,  comprised 
200,000  acres  of  grazing  land,  well  stocked  and 
well  watered,  and  stretching  away  in  rolling  bil- 
lows of  prairie  without  let  or  limit.  It  was  so 
vast  in  extent  that  it  would  have  taken  old 
Delancey — used  as  he  was  to  the  saddle — four 


88  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

days  of  hard  riding  to  encompass  his  pos- 
sessions. Within  its  limitless  confines  were 
many  a  hidden  cafton  and  unexplored  valley, 
where,  beneath  the  staring  sun  or  tremulous 
starlight,  the  buffalo-clover  wasted  its  brooding 
incense  on  the  empty  air,  and  the  mock-bird 
poured  out  its  mad  melody  to  such  mute  wit- 
nesses as  the  hardy  live  oak  or  thorny  mesquite 
alone  ;  spots,  where  the  wandering  herds  that 
flecked  that  chartless,  emerald  sea  seldom  pen- 
etrated, and  the  foot  of  man  never;  vast  green 
silences,  overhung  by  endless  blue,  and  cloud- 
less sylvan  solitude,  which  the  wild  verbena 
embroidered  with  its  pale  amethyst,  and  where 
poppyworts  spilled  their  cups  of  crimson  and 
gold,  and  no  sound,  save  the  incessant  bark  of 
the  marmot,  the  melancholy  pipe  of  upland  plo- 
ver, or  the  gloomy  howl  of  the  coyote,  broke  the 
lonely  monotony. 

And  these  boundless  acres,  with  5,000  head 
of  the  stock  that  roamed  them,  were  to  be 
Cordelia's.  It  is  probable  that  this  fact  had  its 
weight,  and  considerably  augmented  the  grief 
of  the  practical  community  into  which  old  man 
Delancey  burst  one  long  summer  afternoon 
with  the  pink  harbingers  of  the  impending 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.     .         89 

wedding.  Land  upon  the  Big  Brady  was  worth 
two  dollars  an  acre ;  cattle  were  selling  at 
thirty  dollars  a  head  ;  the  eligible  male  popula- 
tion of  San  Saba  performed  a  simple  sum  in 
mental  arithmetic,  and  resigned  itself  to  indis- 
criminate despair. 

Miss  Delancey  had  not  contemplated  the  dis- 
tribution of  invitations  to  her  wedding.  Being 
uneducated  in  that  refined  cruelty  of  older  civ- 
ilizations, which  sends  the  rejected  suitor  the 
announcement  that  he  is  forestalled  by  a  more 
fortunate  rival,  she  would  have  spared  her  late 
admirers  the  somewhat  marked  flavor  of  mod- 
ern etiquette.  No  such  scruples  actuated  her 
sire.  After  the  example  of  Holy  Writ — albeit 
unconsciously  —  he  went  forth  into  the  high- 
ways and  hedges,  and  personally  bade  to  the 
wedding.  Nor  were  the  recent  aspirants  to 
the  hand  of  his  daughter  slighted  in  this  gen- 
erous hospitality. 

"  I  hope  ye'll  all  come,  an'  hev  a  gin'ral  tear 
'round,"  he  said  with  great  liberality  of  manner, 
as  he  distributed  the  last  of  his  social  favors 
among  the  bibulous  patrons  of  the  "  Two 
Brothers." 

"  There'll  be  no  end  o'  fun,  and  Cordy  an' 


90  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

me  allows,  in  course,  there's  to  be  no  hard 
feelin's  among  the  chaps  ez  she's  left  out. 
Everythin's  fair  in  love  and  brandin'  cattle. 
Don't  care  ef  I  do,  Joe,  on  this  festive  occasion. 
My  reg'lar  pizen,"  he  remarked  cheerfully  to  the 
bartender,  on  being  requested  by  Mr.  Treddle 
to  emulate  him  in  his  persistent  patronage. 
"  Ez  I'm  on  this  yer  subjek,"  he  said  easily, 
resting  one  elbow  on  the  bar  and  turning  his 
dull  eyes  on  his  attentive  auditors — "  I  may  as 
well  let  on  that  I  means  to  do  things  up  in 
shape  while  I'm  'bout  it,  by  givin'  of  a  bar- 
becue, an'  out  o'  respect  fur  ole  times — 
'  Whisky'll  be  free  in  the  back  room/"  This 
generous  announcement — a  tribute  to  the 
method  by  which  old  Delancey  had  laid  the 
foundation  of  his  fortune  when  a  mere  country 
storekeeper  in  a  neighboring  settlement — was 
received  with  applause  and  acclamation. 

The  long  anticipated  morning  dawned  in 
brilliant  apotheosis  of  crimson  and  gold  upon 
the  eastern  horizon,  that  later  grew  into  the 
effulgent  sun.  As  the  long  lances  of  light 
slipped  above  the  summits  of  the  low  hills, 
and  shivered  themselves  in  a  dazzling  sortie 
upon  the  glittering  landscape,  signs  of  prepara- 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  91 

tion  were  visible  about  the  "  Delancey  House." 
The  posts  of  the  front  gallery  were  wreathed 
and  garlanded  with  mistletoe  from  the  neigh- 
boring valleys,  and  the  spacious  frame-house 
wore  an  air  of  unusual  hospitality.  The  Texan 
barbecue,  in  its  incipient  stages,  was  exem- 
plified by  large  fires  on  the  level  in  front  of  the 
dwelling,  and  an  ox  roasting  whole.  Around 
these  beacons  of  coming  good  cheer,  the  vol- 
unteer cooks  of  the  locality  busied  themselves 
and  bustled.  Early  as  was  the  hour  the  guests 
were  arriving,  and  the  clanking  of  spurs  and  the 
creaking  of  expostulatory  wheels  startled  the 
still  morning  air.  A  long  ride  of  fifty  miles  lay 
before  bride  and  bridegroom ;  for,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  need  of  supervision  at  the  Big 
Brady  Ranch,  their  future  home  was  to  be  the 
terminus  of  the  customary  wedding  trip. 

Within  the  ample  parlors  the  country  side 
from  far  and  near  assembled — conspicuous 
among  which,  the  disconsolate  contingent  of 
the  fair  Cordelia's  suitors,  fortified  against  out- 
ward expression  by  repeated  draughts  of  that 
panacea  for  human  ills  already  advertised  as 
available  in  the  back  room — awaited  expect- 
antly the  coming  of  the  bride. 


92  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

She  came  presently.  Certainly  no  fairer  had 
the  morning  dawned  over  the  San  Saba  hills 
than  Cordelia  upon  that  enraptured  audience, 
blushing  as  the  conscious  East,  with  brown 
eyes,  swept  on  either  cheek  by  downcast  lashes, 
and  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  blonde  Hype- 
rion. So  radiant  was  her  lovely  presence,  that 
notwithstanding  the  precautionary  measures 
against  expressive  emotion  above  alluded  to, 
a  very  audible  and  alcoholic  sigh  was  exhaled 
from  various  quarters  of  the  room,  and  Joe 
Treddle,  with  an  involuntary  gesture  of  des- 
pair, left  the  room  abruptly,  and  spent  the  time 
occupied  by  the  ceremony  in  solitary  commun- 
ion with  the  counter-irritant  in  the  back  room. 

The  brief  rites  by  which  matrimony  is  solemn- 
ized upon  the  frontier  were  quickly  over,  and 
the  fair  Cordelia  was  resigned  to  the  congratu- 
lations of  admiring  friends.  It  was  hardly  ten 
o'clock  by  old  Delancey's  shagreen-cased  watch, 
when,  escorted  to  the  gate  with  much  effusive 
demonstration,  she  took  her  seat  in  the  square, 
light  carriage  in  waiting,  and  as  Mr.  Ridge 
Johnson  gathered  up  the  reins  and  cracked  his 
whip,  a  shower  of  rice,  and  several  antiquated 
slippers  of  frontier  pattern,  accompanied  the 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  93 

happy  couple  part  way  upon  their  wedding 
journey.  The  exuberant  guests,  having  dis- 
charged their  congratulatory  duties  with  well 
counterfeited  zeal,  devoted  themselves  imme- 
diately with  greater  zest  to  the  substantial  good 
cheer  awaiting  them  upon  the  front  lawn. 
Throughout  the  long  afternoon  the  fierce  sun 
brooded  over  a  noisy,  convivial,  and  perspiring 
throng ;  but  Reuben  Delancey,  busying  him- 
self in  profuse  hospitality  toward  his  many 
guests — albeit  a  little  unsteady  upon  his  pins 
from  repeated  toasting  of  the  bride — was  con- 
scious of  an  overmastering  feeling  of  bereave- 
ment and  loss  that  resisted  even  repeated  stimu- 
lation ;  and  once  the  old  man  found  himself  in 
a  corner  of  his  grounds,  gazing  vacantly  in  the 
direction  of  the  River  Crossing,  and  dashing  a 
tear  or  two  from  his  shaggy  lashes  with  his 
hirsute  hand. 

Toward  nightfall  black  clouds  came  troop- 
ing over  from  the  west,  obscuring  the  drooping 
sun,  and  later  a  thunderstorm  of  unusual  vio- 
lence descended  upon  guests  and  host.  As 
they  fled  from  its  fury  into  the  spacious  man- 
sion, and  listened  to  the  crash  of  the  lurid 
bolts  that  cleft  the  startled  air,  and  the  sharp 


94  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

fusillade  of  the  driving  rain,  a  strange  fancy 
that  the  elements  were  in  sympathy  diffused 
itself  in  the  minds  of  all.  It  was  at  once  as 
if  Nature  reciprocated  and  reproduced  the  tears 
of  the  father,  and  the  imprecations  of  the  re- 
jected suitors  over  the  recent  union. 

A  week  elapsed — a  week  of  peculiarly  depress- 
ing weather,  even  in  that  monotonous  and  level 
landscape.  A  cold,  shroud-like  mist  clung 
about  the  shoulders  of  the  low  hills  that  at 
night  slipped  down  their  flanks,  and  stole  with 
ghostly  footfall  through  the  damp  and  dreary 
town.  All  day  long  the  leprous  sycamores 
about  the  stagnant  pools  were  restless  as  with 
a  nervous  dread,  and  the  sallow  willows  con- 
vulsed, distracted,  and  hysterical.  In  the  leaden 
atmosphere  the  somber  ranks  of  evergreen  at 
the  Crossing  seemed  like  mourners  bending 
reverently  above  an  enormous  grave,  and  the 
rush  of  the  writhing  river,  far  below,  came  like 
a  smothered  sob  from  the  black  abyss. 

And  then,  one  day,  a  horseman  spurred  his 
laboring  steed  into  the  foaming  current,  scram- 
bled breathless  and  dripping  up  the  steep 
opposite  bank,  and  dashed  rapidly  away  over 
the  flat  road  to  the  Delancey  house.  It  was 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  9$ 

Delancey's  old  and  experienced  foreman,  and 
he  brought  with  him  a  strange  story.  There 
had  been  no  arrival  of  the  expected  bride  and 
bridegroom  at  the  Big  Brady  Ranch. 

For  a  brief  interval  the  mind  of  the  fond 
father  was  occupied  with  surmise  and  conject- 
ure of  some  possible  mishap.  "Thet  'ar  dad- 
burned  mustang  '  Bolero  '  might  have  slipped 
his  hobbles  an'  lit  out  in  the  night  across 
country,"  he  ruminated.  "  But  even  so,  they 
cud  ha'  footed  it  to  Brady,"  was  his  instant 
reflection. 

By  degrees  the  puzzled  expression  with 
which  he  had  received  the  news  gave  way  to 
one  of  uneasiness,  and  then  of  absolute  anx- 
iety, until,  grasping  his  heavy  cow-hat  and  rid- 
ing-whip, he  sprang  up  behind  his  foreman,  and 
together  they  galloped  to  the  "  Pasear." 

A  hurried  consultation  with  its  querulous 
proprietor  followed.  But  as  that  worthy  had 
not  yet  emerged  from  his  hygienic  slough  of 
despond,  it  did  not  contribute  to  alleviate  his 
apprehension,  and  when  the  untimely  ringing 
of  the  great  hotel  bell  startled  the  scattered 
guests  a  few  minutes  later,  a  general  alarm 
speedily  spread  throughout  the  village.  From 


96  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

far  and  near,  as  at  the  beat  of  an  alarming 
drum,  the  men  assembled :  the  blacksmith 
bearing  a  red  hot  iron,  hastily  plucked  from  the 
forge ;  Hackett  with  the  cheese-knife,  with  which 
he  had  been  serving  a  customer,  still  redolent 
of  its  employment ;  Joe  Treddle,  hopelessly 
drunk  upon  a  reeling  and  erratic  bicycle, 
bringing  up  an  inglorious  rear  with  a  disas- 
trous "header." 

The  story  was  soon  told.  In  that  country 
of  quick  resolve  and  instant  execution,  decision 
was  not  wanting.  Although  the  "  Wild  Rose  " 
had  been  plucked  by  the  hand  of  another,  she 
still  held  for  all  a  subtle  and  vicarious  charm. 
Even  his  spirituous  disguise  did  not  conceal  the 
solicitude  of  Joe  Treddle. 

"  Mish  Cordy  nosh  shone  hup,"  hiccoughed 
the  irresponsible  Joe, — "  nosh  at  'ome — wass 
maar — wass  maar,  ole  man  ?  She  'ere,  boys, 
lesh  fine  'er — thash  was  mus'  do — ri'  'way — no 
time  loosh — I  shay,  mus'  fine  'er  rish  hoff!  " 

A  shout  of  approbation  drowned  this  maudlin 
logic.  By  noon,  a  motley  cavalcade,  armed  to 
the  teeth,  heavy-spurred,  and  big-sombreroed, 
had  left  the  town  behind  them,  and  were  away 
upon  the  trail.  Far  in  front,  pale,  rigid,  and 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  97 

staring-eyed,  the  father,  mounted  upon  a  fleet 
mustang,  followed  the  faint  and  fading'  tracks  ; 
and  far  in  the  rear,  rubicund,  relaxed,  and 
bleared,  but  still  potent,  struggling  onward 
with  a  common  purpose,  Joe  Treddle  reeled  in 
his  saddle. 

Little  heart  have  I  to  follow  them  on  that  des- 
pairing search  ;  to  recount  that  agonizing  quest 
through  valley  and  cafton.  Skills  it  little  now 
the  telling,  how,  traced  through  yielding 
sand  and  resisting  gravel,  the  trail  grew  fainter, 
fainter,  until,  washed  by  recent  rains  and 
woven  with  the  hoof-prints  of  countless  stock, 
it  vanished  altogether ;  nor  later,  when  the  in- 
telligent scrutiny  with  which  the  search  began 
gave  way  to  fortuitous  inquiry  and  chance  re- 
connoitering  over  that  inland  ocean,  how  the 
blank  desert  waste  rang  with  cracking  "Win- 
chesters "  and  exploding  "  Colts,"  fired  in 
signal.  Seven  days,  from  dawn  to  twilight,  they 
sought  the  Wild  Rose  of  San  Saba.  Seven 
nights,  beneath  a  delirious  and  gibbous  moon, 
the  uncertain  curtain  of  the  night  was  rent  with 
the  red  flashes  and  shattering  reports  of  fire- 
arms, and  the  leaping  flames  of  torch  and  pine- 
knot  frightened  the  gaunt  coyote  from  afar 


98  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

But  the  grim  stillness  gave  no  answering  sign. 
The  undulating  prairie  billows  rolled  away 
against  the  vague  horizon ;  the  live  oaks 
stretched  their  sturdy  limbs  to  heaven,  and  the 
drooping  mesquites  bent  their  heads  in  ominous 
salutation.  The  vast,  measureless,  illimitable 
solitude  was  reticent  of  its  agonizing  secret  still. 

When  at  last,  worn  out  with  ineffectual  in- 
quiry and  fruitless  effort,  the  mounted  throng 
dispersed,  none  but  the  heart-broken  father  was 
left  behind  at  the  Big  Brady  Ranch.  A  faint 
hope — feeble,  despairing,  still  kept  him  on  his 
quest.  The  earliest  throb  of  the  morning  star 
found  him  in  the  saddle,  and  the  startled  jack- 
rabbit,  plunging  wildly  from  its  form,  beheld 
him  up  and  away.  When  a  fortnight  later, 
pale,  leaden-eyed,  dejected  —  a  mere  emaciated 
ghost  of  the  bustling,  energetic  old  man  that 
had  regaled  them  a  month  since  —  he  rode 
slowly  into  San  Saba,  it  was  understood  that 
he  too  had  abandoned  the  search. 

And  so  the  weeks  passed  ;  summer  lapsed 
into  autumn — the  long  harrow  of  the  wild  goose 
dragged  ceaselessly  across  gray  skies,  and  their 
dusky  squadrons  were  jubilantly  discordant  in 
creek  and  meadow ;  autumn  faded  into  winter 


THE  M  YS TER  Y  OF  SAN  SABA.  99 

— the  sudden  Northers  swept  down  from  Kansas 
with  their  ice  pageantry  and  blinding  sleet  ;  and 
still  no  word,  no  sign.  Meanwhile,  the  faint 
hope  that  still  flickered  in  the  bosom  of  the 
bereaved  old  man  faded  also,  and  gave  place 
to  helpless  despair.  He  had  changed  pitifully 
with  the  failing  year.  His  dull  eyes — always 
irresponsive — were  now  vacant  and  wandering; 
the  sturdy  shoulders  were  bowed  beneath  their 
weight  of  grief ;  the  hair — of  late  years  streaked 
with  gray — had  grown  nearly  white.  Every 
thing  about  him  bore  the  imprint  of  his  absorb- 
ing sorrow. 

When  the  spring  opened,  he  bade  farewell 
forever  to  town-life,  and,  parting  from  his  asso- 
ciates with  a  perfunctory  shake  of  the  hand, 
betook  him  to  his  ranch  upon  the  Big  Brady. 
Here,  with  no  society  save  the  rough  men 
he  employed,  three  long,  monotonous  years 
dragged  by.  As  he  grew  older,  he  lost  his  frank 
hospitality,  and  becoming  more  than  ever  en- 
grossed in  the  business  of  stock-raising,  grew 
querulous  and  crabbed.  It  was  as  if  the  calamity 
that  had  overtaken  him,  had  made  him  distrust- 
ful of  all  things.  He  essayed  the  somewhat 
dangerous  experiment  of  running  sheep  and 


1 06  THE  M YSTER  Y  OF  SAN  SA BA . 

cattle  side  by  side,  and  his  enormous  range  was 
now  pasturing  ten  thousand  Merino  sheep. 

In  the  mean  time  the  slow  years  had  wrought 
their  changes  in  the  village  of  San  Saba.  The 
proprietor  of  the  "  Pasear"  had  been  at  last 
absorbed  by  his  hygienic  slough,  and  slept 
peacefully  in  the  little  cemetery  by  the  river, 
beneath  the  funereal  pines.  The  blacksmith  and 
the  storekeeper  had  taken  other  Roses  to 
themselves — albeit  less  lovely  and  less  besought 
— and  were  now  rejoicing  in  a  juvenile  parterre 
of  buds  and  blossoms.  Joe  Treddle — finding 
the  pursuit  of  harness-making  incompatible 
with  his  incessant  patronage  of  the  Two  Broth- 
ers— had  turned  his  attention  to  politics  with 
gratifying  success.  After  an  unusually  vinous 
canvass,  he  was  elected  County  Judge,  and  the 
Concho  Circuit  became  at  once  famous  for 
incoherent  articulation  and  dubious  legal  pre- 
cedent. 

As  the  judicial  dignity  grew  upon  him,  he 
proved  the  healing  powers  of  time  by  selecting 
a  widow  with  whom  to  share  the  honors  of  his 
new  condition.  His  lady's  assumption  of  the 
title  of  Mrs.  Judge  Treddle  was  none  the  less 
emphatic  from  the  fact  that  she  had  commenced 


THE  M YS TER  Y  OF  SA N  SABA.  I o i 

her  social  career  as  cook  in  a  sheep-camp.  Per- 
haps it  was  his  helpmate's  knowledge  of  this 
industry  that  led  his  Honor  eventually  to 
undertake  it.  When  the  sheep-men  began  to 
organize — the  better  to  protect  their  interests 
— the  popularity  of  the  genial  Judge  enabled 
him  to  secure  the  additional  distinction  of 
"  Delegate  from  Concho  Co.,  for  the  Prevention 
of  Scab."  It  was  this  additional  responsibility 
which  sent  him  once  a  year  to  Austin,  to  rep- 
resent with  maudlin  rhetoric  before  the  "  Wool 
Growers'  Convention,"  the  urgency  of  keeping 
in  quarantine  all  diseased  flocks ;  it  was  this 
which  invariably  impelled  him,  on  the  way 
back,  to  purchase  sheep  at  a  suspiciously  low 
figure  and  drive  them  recklessly  through  the 
country  in  furtherance  of  the  truth  of  his 
remarks ;  and  it  was  the  possession  of  a  homi- 
cidal negro  as  herder — whom  the  Judge's  legal 
authority  had  enabled  him  to  acquit  already  of 
several  murders — that  had  hitherto  prevented 
the  sheep-men  of  Concho  Co.  from  forcibly 
opposing  his  triumphant  and  pastoral  return. 
Altogether  the  rise  of  the  genial  judge  into 
power  and  prominence  had  been  peculiarly 
brilliant  and  edifying. 


102  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

It  was  a  bright,  clear  day  at  the  Big  Brady 
Ranch.  The  westering  sun  was  lording  it  as 
usual  over  the  stifling  landscape,  warping  that 
spacious  structure  into  sharp  crepitation,  and 
causing  the  pine  boards  to  exude  a  tearful  and 
resinuous  remonstrance  from  the  fierceness  of 
its  oppression.  The  small,  red  lizards  that  were 
wont,  during  the  long  hours  of  the  afternoon  to 
seek  the  shadow  of  its  eastern  eaves,  were 
enjoying  an  unusual  immunity  from  molesta- 
tion. The  hands  were  all  away  upon  the  range. 
Only  old  Delancey,  in  a  corner  of  the  ample 
dooryard,  busy  in  doctoring  certain  ailing  ewes 
of  his  "  hospital  flock,"  was  left  behind  to 
appreciate  the  general  loneliness  and  desola- 
tion. 

When,  therefore,  the  clicking  of  the  ranch- 
gate,  and  the  rattling  of  a  windlass,  bore  evidence 
that  some  strolling  cow-boy  was  availing  him- 
self of  the  refreshment  of  the  well,  he  strolled 
over  to  the  curb  with  weary  steps  and  a  gruff 
"Howdy." 

"  How's  stock  over  on  Maverick  ? "  he 
inquired,  recognizing  the  new  comer,  and  sit- 
ting down  negligently  upon  a  neighboring  nail- 
keg. 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  103 

"  Jes'  tol'ble  !  "  replied  the  cow-boy — a  blonde 
Hercules,  encumbered  by  the  huge  leggings  of 
his  calling, — "jes'  tol'ble!  I  reckon  I  counted 
nigh  onto  seven  likely  calves  'twixt  here  and 
the  fork — all  dead  from  screw-worm." 

"  I  wanter  know!  "  ejaculated  old  Delancey 
with  despondency  appropriate  to  the  intelli- 
gence,— "/  wanter  know !  'Pears  like  ez  ef 
every  thin'  this  yer  season  war  dad-burned  an* 
dod-rotted  !  I  lost  nine  steers  this  brandin'  from 
them  'ere  'tarnal  flies ;  them  Febooary  lambs 
was  all  pizened  on  laurel — swelled  up,  by  thun- 
der and  snakes !  keeled  over,  an'  died  without  a 
blate — an'  now  here's  the  calves  a-goin'  !  It 
do  seem,"  he  went  on  with  increasing  impa- 
tience, "  as  ef  thet  thar  devil  from  hell  war  into 
things,  an'  thet  air  a  fact  !  'Pears  like  ez  ef 
the  only  thing  I  hev  to  be  thankful  fur  is  thet 
I  ain't  got  the  scab,  and  thet  air  suthin',  when 
they  tell  me  they're  jest  a  drappin'  down  in 
McCulloch  Co.  like  manner  into  the  wilderness." 

"  An'  ye  won't  be  outer  thet  long,  nuther," 
responded  the  gloomy  cow-boy,  ignoring  De- 
lancey's  theology.  "  Ez  I  kem  across  thet 
strip  of  purrara  over  by  Yoho'sthismornin' — an 
hour  afore  sun,  I  reckon — I  seen  thet  thar  Jedge 


104  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

Treddle,  jest  back  from  Austin,  a-drivin'  the 
scabbiest  flock  o'  sheep  I  ever  seed  right  across 
yer  range.  The  Jedge  an'  his  woman  were  in 
a  hack,  an'  thet  bloody  nigger  o'  his'n  an'  a 
greaser  on  horseback  were  a-junein'  'em  along 
over  the  western  divide.  The  sheep  was  plum 
red  with  scab,  and  a-layin'  down  every  minit 
and  a-scratchin'.  If  them  big  wethers  o'  your'n 
come  within  a  mile  o'  there,  they'll  ketch  it, 
sartin."  ' 

Old  Delancey  sprang  up  at  this  information, 
livid  with  rage  and  trembling  with  passion. 

"  Wot's  thet  yer  sayin'  ?  "  he  screamed.  "  Is 
thet  thar  drunken  Joe  Treddle  comin'  'cross  my 
range,  spite'n  all  I've  tole  him,  an'  Hackett  jes' 
sendin'  me  word  he's  all  out  o'  thet  sheep-dip ! 
Here,  Jack!  Rube!  Aleck!  saddle  '  Bother- 
'em  '  an'  load  them  '  Winchesters '  right 
smart ! " 

Then  remembering  that  he  was  alone  on  the 
ranch,  he  stopped  abruptly. 

Howbeit,  the  news  was  too  urgent  to  allow 
him  to  be  long  silent.  After  some  moments 
devoted  to  picturesque  and  sulphurous  char- 
acterization of  Judge  Treddle's  genealogy,  and 
a  forcible  expression  of  preference  for  being  that 


7 'II E  M YS TER Y  OF  SAN  SABA.  105 

instant  where  patience  and  persistence  in  his 
blasphemous  vocabulary  would  doubtless  land 
him  eventually,  he  hurriedly  loaded  his  "  Win- 
chester "  and  "  six-shooters,"  saddled  his  mus- 
tang, and  calling  to  his  cow-boy  informant,  set 
out  for  the  scene  of  his  animadversions. 

After  a  long  gallop  over  the  rolling  prairie, 
he  overtook  the  legal  gentleman  and  his  woolly 
cohorts,  slowly  journeying  westward.  It  was 
indeed  as  the  cow-boy  had  said.  The  frantic 
sheep  dragged  their  wretched  bodies  wearily 
along,  stopping  ever  and  anon  to  lie  down  and 
roll,  or  to  bite  and  tear  their  mangy  fleeces. 
Shaking  with  passion,  Delancey  rode  up. 

"  Howdy!"  exclaimed  the  genial  Judge,  ex- 
tending an  uncertain  hand  -and  a  more  or  less 
inebriated  person  from  the  hack.  "  Fac'  ish 
I'se  glad  shee  yer,  D'lanshey — I  am,  thash  fac' ! 
Git  down  !  git  down  !  git  in  the  hack !  " 

Ignoring  this  cordial  invitation  and  the  beam- 
ing presence  of  Mrs.  Treddle,  seated  impres- 
sively by  the  side  of  her  bibulous  spouse,  De- 
lancey broke  out : 

"  I  reckon  I've  hed  jest  'bout  all  I  care  fur 
o'  this  yer  bizness,  Jedge — jes  'bout  all  I  care  fur. 
Do  you  call  this  sort  o'  thing  neighborly,  driv- 


106  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

ing  scabby  sheep  over  my  range  without  givin' 
me  warnin'  ?  " 

"  Wai,  no  !  "  said  the  judicial  presence,  smil- 
ing benignly  from  the  hack,  and  striving  in  vain 
to  bring  his  swaying  body  face  to  face  with  the 
emergency.  "  Can't  shay  zhackly  nayboorly — 
thash  fac' ! — shame  time,  D'lanshey,  we'sh  ole 
fren's — you'n  me's  ole  fren's — git  down  ! — wass 
maar? — them  sheep's  all  ri' ! — wass  maar? — lesh 
ha'  drink." 

And  the  Judge  produced  a  black  bottle  from 
under  the  seat,  and  held  it  out  with  unsteady 
fingers  and  maudlin  hospitality  toward  De- 
lancey. 

But  the  old  man  was  now  beyond  alcoholic 
propitiation. 

"Look  here!  Judge  Treddle,"  he  almost 
screamed,  "  this  yer  thing  hez  got  to  stop  right 
here,  d'ye  understand  ? — right  here  ! — or  there'll 
be  a  differ.  It'll  cost  me  nigh  onto  three  thou- 
sand dollar  to  dip  my  sheep,  an'  ef  they  git  the 
scab  I'll  hev  the  money  outer  yer  hide,  or  I'll 
die  fust!  What's  more,"  he  added  ominously, 
laying  a  heavy  hand  on  the  handle  of  a  re- 
volver, "  ef  you  or  any  o'  yer  outfit  is  on  my 
range  by  sun-up  to-morrer  mornin',  ye'll  stay 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  107 

there  fur  cullinders — fur  cullinders,  d'ye  under- 
stand ?  "  he  shrieked. 

With  which  graphic  simile  of  the  direness  of 
the  vengeance  that  awaited  the  intruding  party, 
he  subsided.  Judge  Treddle  received  the  edict 
with  effusion, 

"  All  ri'  !  D'lanshey,  ole  boy  !  Hoo-roar  ! 
hoo-roar ! !  Talksh  like  book — thash  law  !  "  he 
said,  beaming  down  upon  his  wife  with  judicial 
dignity.  "D'lanshey  a'mos'  lawyher — thash 
fac' ! " 

Then  suddenly  changing  his  expression  and 
leaning  from  the  vehicle  with  a  drunken  leer, 

"  Don't  you  reckon  yoosh  besher  be  gittin' 
back  to  ransh  ?  " 

All  the  pent  up  wrath  of  Delancey  blazed  up 
and  burst  forth  at  this  implied  suggestion  of 
ordering  him  off  his  own  range.  In  an  instant 
he  had  drawn  a  revolver.  A  wild,  murderous 
desire  to  shoot  the  drunken  trespasser  dead  in 
his  tracks,  surged  through  his  brain.  The  next 
moment  the  long,  blue  barrel  of  a  "  Winchester  " 
in  the  hands  of  the  homicidal  black,  whose 
eyes  were  rolling  with  excitement,  stayed  his 
hand. 

"  I'se  got  you,  Mass'   D'lancey  !  I'se  got  you 


108  THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA. 

sure  nuff  !  "  grinned  the  homicide,  covering  the 
old  man  with  the  rifle. 

Delancey  recognized  the  logic  of  the  situa- 
tion ;  he  restored  his  weapon  to  its  holster. 
Without  a  word  he  wheeled  his  mustang 
sharply  around  and  galloped  off,  followed  by 
the  cow-boy. 

But  not  without  malediction  or  anathema. 
As  his  fleet  pony  put  rod  upon  rod  between 
him  and  the  trespassers,  the  enormity  of  their 
transgression  found  vent  in  the  resources  of  a 
forcible — if  not  a  strictly  elegant  —vocabulary. 
Amid  a  wealth  of  lurid  metaphor  and  graphic 
invective,  the  cow-boy  gathered  that  they 
were  both  upon  the  brink  of  revolting  and 
indiscriminate  bloodshed  of  the  most  appalling 
kind. 

Thus  riding  rapidly — the  old  man  still  breath- 
ing out  threatenings  and  slaughter — they  came 
suddenly  upon  a  thorny  chaparral,  into  which, 
without  pausing  to  skirt  it,  they  furiously 
dashed.  For  a  few  moments  nothing  was 
heard  save  the  plunging  and  rearing  of  their 
horses,  as  they  burst  their  way  through  the 
thick  and  tangled  underbrush,  when  all  at  once 
old  Delancey 's  mustang  sank  suddenly  to  the 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  SAN  SABA.  109 

ground,  throwing  him  violently  from  the  saddle. 
He  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant,  cursing  the 
luckless  brute  which  had  stepped  into  a  marmot 
burrow  and  slipped  her  shoulder.  An  omin- 
ous flapping  of  wings  caused  both  to  lookup. 
Suddenly  the  form  of  the  old  man  became  fixed 
and  rigid,  his  bloodshot  eyes,  set  and  staring. 
In  this  attitude  he  remained  motionless,  with 
outstretched  hand  pointing  through  the  thicket. 
The  eyes  of  his  companion  followed  the  ges- 
ture. 

There,  in  a  small  opening  beyond,  weather- 
beaten  and  bedraggled — its  hangings  moldy 
and  torn — its  wheels  rusty  and  crumbling — 
with  one  shattered  door  hanging  helplessly 
from  a  broken  hinge — a  square,  light  carriage 
was  dimly  visible.  Both  rushed  to  the  spot. 
It  needed  not  the  peculiar  fashion  of  the  side- 
lamps  ;  the  tattered  corduroy  cushions ;  the 
heavy  harness,  dry  and  hard  from  exposure  to 
the  weather,  lying  like  the  folds  of  an  anaconda 
about  a  heap  of  whitened,  equine  bones,  to 
identify  that  ruined  conveyance.  The  mind  of 
Delancey  leaped  at  once  to  a  realization  of  the 
awful  and  overwhelming  truth.  A  neighboring 
live  oak,  smitten  into  desolate  ruin  by  the 


1 1 6  THE  M  YSTER  Y  OF  &AN  SABA. 

ruthless  thunderbolt ;  the  shivered  door ;  the 
gloomy  buzzards,  perched  like  unclean  spirits 
of  disaster  upon  adjacent  boughs,  were  all 
unmistakable  witnesses  of  an  appalling  doom. 
When,  at  length,  they  summoned  courage  to 
disturb  the  ruins  of  that  four-wheeled  sepul- 
cher,  the  evidences  of  universal  death  were 
not  many  but  indisputable.  A  heavy  riding- 
boot,  shrunken  and  distorted  ;  a  rein  hanging 
over  the  dashboard,  just  as  it  had  fallen  from 
the  nerveless  hand  that  held  it ;  a  tattered 
glove  and  ribbon  ;  some  shreds  of  clothing;  and 
a  few  moldering  bones  that  the  prowling 
wolves  and  birds  of  prey  had  spared,  were  all 
that  remained  of  the  Wild  Rose  and  her  hus- 
band. 


THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO. 


IT  was  hot  upon  the  South  Brady.  The  advent 
of  an  early  Texan  spring  had  been  unusually 
aggressive.  To  the  dwellers  by  the  narrow  line 
of  creek,  the  daily  lances  of  the  sun  seemed  to 
charge  relentlessly  upon  the  scanty  foliage  that 
fringed  and  dotted  the  little  valley.  They 
pierced  the  thorny  corslets  of  the  mesquites 
and  forced  from  the  arms  of  the  live  oaks  the 
dusky  pennons  they  had  borne  triumphantly 
in  the  face  of  blustering  Northers.  Only  the 
birds  seemed  jubilant  over  the  forward  season. 
The  mocking-birds,  indeed,  wantoned  from 
spray  to  spray,  filling  the  air  with  their  delirious 
ventriloquism,  and  the  sentinel  scissor-tail  bared 
his  rosy  bosom  joyfully  to  the  invading  sun- 
light ;  but  the  flocks  at  noon  sought  the  feeble 
shade  complainingly  ;  the  prairie-dogs  depre- 
cated the  heat  in  shrill  barks  from  their  many 


112          THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO. 

burrows ;  even  the  rattlesnakes  resigned  all 
communion  with  nature,  save  at  evening  or 
early  dawn. 

Apparently,  the  enervating  influences  of  the 
weather  were  appreciated  by  the  proprietors 
themselves.  Although  the  lambing  season  was 
near  at  hand,  they  were  not  visible  around  the 
ranch  nor  in  the  neighboring  sheep-pens.  All 
work  in  preparation  for  that  busy  time  seemed 
to  have  been  suspended  or  abandoned.  The 
primitive  brush  inclosure  had  been  subdivided 
into  many  small  corrals  by  thin  partitions  antl 
wicket  gates  ;  a  few  narrow  cribs,  made  of  criss- 
crossed rails,  awaited  the  occupancy  of  refrac- 
tory ewes.  Several  newly-fashioned  shepherds' 
crooks  leaned  against  the  gate,  and  a  bundle  of 
rustic  paint-brands  lay  in  a  corner.  All  human 
responsibility  for  these  industrious  efforts  was 
evidently  hidden  from  view  in  the  little  cabin. 

Indeed,  the  laziness  of  its  occupants  sug- 
gested apathy.  The  "  Cook  "  lay  asleep  in  a  neg- 
ligfa  oi  apparel  and  attitude  quite  shameless  and 
characteristic.  The  "  Oracle,"  who  was  recog- 
nized by  that  title  as  a  reluctant  authority  upon 
the  sheep  question,  was  engaged  in  cutting  up 
a  plug  of  "  natural  leaf,"  preparatory  to  filling 


THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO.          113 

his  pipe.  The  "  Deacon  " — a  sobriquet  inspired 
by  the  gentleman's  customary  reticence — was 
listlessly  cracking  and  eating  pecans  upon  the 
doorstep.  By  the  single  narrow  window  the 
"  Old  Man  " — a  synonym  of  seniority  rather 
than  age — was  occupied  in  the  perusal  of  a 
recently  received  letter.  A  general  atmos- 
phere of  passive  lassitude  pervaded  the  group. 

"Well,  boys,"  said  the  Old  Man,  with  a  sigh, 
as  he  slowly  folded  his  letter  and  replaced  it  in 
its  envelope,  "  I  reckon  she  's  likely  to  pay  us  a 
visit." 

"  Who  's  she  ?  "  inquired  the  Oracle,  striking 
a  match. 

"  My  daughter  Kate." 

Evidently  the  reply  caused  his  auditor  some 
surprise,  for  he  allowed  his  match  to  go  out. 

"  Wh-a-t !  "  said  he,  with  a  stare  of  amaze- 
ment. 

"  Here,  Cook !  brace  up  and  have  some  style 
about  you  !  Don't  you  hear  that  lovely  woman 
is  going  to  visit  the  ranch?  " 

The  individual  thus  roughly  addressed  sat  up, 
lazily  rubbing  his  eyes. 

"  The  Old  Man's  daughter's  coming  down," 
explained  the  Oracle. 


t!4          THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO. 

"  Nice  accommodations  and  surroundings  for 
a  lady,"  replied  the  Cook,  in  a  sarcastic  tone. 
"  Pleasant  landscape,"  he  added,  with  a  dejected 
wave  of  the  hand  toward  the  open  door. 

The  Oracle  raised  his  eyes  at  the  gesture. 
A  wild  steer,  engaged  in  satisfied  mastication 
of  a  pair  of  ducking  overalls  lately  discarded  by 
the  speaker,  monopolized  the  near  vista. 

"  That's  what  I  said  in  my  last,"  retorted  the 
Old  Man,  apologetically.  "  I  told  her  I  reck- 
oned a  sheep-camp  weren't  naturally  no  kind  o' 
place  for  her  this  time  o'  year ;  but  women  is 
onsartin,  and  Kate's  bound  to  come.  She  says 
she's  lonely  up  to  Paint  Rock,  and  ain't  got  no 
society  at  this  season  on  account  of  the  '  round- 
ups,' and  thet  we  needn't  sling  on  any  extra 
style  on  her  account." 

"  Don't  you  suppose  you  could  persuade  her 
to  postpone  this  trip  of  hers  until  I  can  get  to 
see  my  tailor?"  inquired  the  Oracle,  gazing 
despondently  at  his  ragged  frontier  dress. 

"Or  until  I've  finished  my  regular  six  weeks' 
washin',  said  the  Cook,  with  a  rueful  glance  at 
the  wash-tub,  on  which  he  had  recently  sus- 
pended hostilities. 

The  Deacon  said  nothing,  but  quietly  raised 


THREE  STREP  HO  NS  OF  CONCHO.          115 

one  foot,  and  introduced  the  yawning  side  of  a 
mendicant  boot  into  the  dialogue. 

"  No,"  said  the  Old  Man,  with  an  air  of  resig- 
nation. "  I  reckon  she  'lows  to  come,  and  the 
only  thing  we  can  do  is  to  make  the  best  of  it. 
We'll  hev  to  quit  campin'  out  in  this  yer 
room  and  fix  it  up  for  her  accommodation. 
You  boys  kin  raise  thet  thar  tent  thet's  out  in 
the  barn,  and  I'll  do  my  sleepin',  I  reckon,  in 
the  kitchen.  We'll  try  an'  make  out  some- 
how." 

"  But  how  do  you  reckon  a  young  lady'll 
stand  washin'  in  a  tin  basin,  and  livin*  on  bacon 
and  beans?"  suggested  the  Cook. 

"  Wai,"  said  the  Old  Man,  slowly,  "  ef  a  gal 
will  come  whar  she  ain't  wanted,  and  can't  stand 
it  arter  she  gets  thar,  why,  she's  got  to,  thet's 
all." 

Having  delivered  himself  of  this  logical  state- 
ment, with  the  air  of  a  judge  pronouncing  a  de- 
cision from  which  there  can  be  no  appeal,  this 
inconsiderate  father  raised  himself  upon  a  pair 
of  legs,  wofully  rheumatic  and  uncompromising 
at  the  knees,  and  picking  up  his  battered  hat, 
stumped  pensively  away  upon  these  animated 
stilts  in  the  direction  of  the  sheep-pen. 


Ii6          THREE  STREP  HO  NS  OF  CONCH  0. 

The  trio  left  behind  regarded  the  situation 
with  cynical  disfavor.  Each  individual,  being 
thoroughly  conscious  of  the  degradation  of  his 
own  garments,  took  an  ironical  pleasure  in 
gratuitous  concern  for  the  wardrobe  of  his 
friends.  The  Cook  devoted  himself  to  the 
washing  of  his  dishes,  and  the  clearing  away  of 
a  sketchy  repast,  of  which  they  all  had  recently 
partaken,  after  gravely  expressing  the  hope  that 
the  Oracle  would  avoid  shocking  the  finer  feel- 
ings of  their  prospective  guest  by  sewing  up 
various  rents  in  his  apparel.  The  peculiar 
quality  of  the  Cook's  solicitude  was  somewhat 
heightened  by  the  fact  that  he  was  himself  re- 
joicing in  the  untrammeled  freedom  of  a  net- 
ting shirt.  The  Deacon's  forebodings  for  the 
Oracle  were  apparently  of  a  moral  character. 

"  I'd  recommend  ye,"  said  he,  for  the  first 
time  breaking  his  silence,  and  addressing  that 
individual,  "to  be  more  particular  hereafter 
about  cussin'  when  yer  bringin'  in  them  late 
ewes  about  sun-down.  I  can  always  tell  where 
ye  are  by  the  brimstone  comin'  down  the 
wind." 

"  Deacon,"  said  the  Oracle  very  solemnly,  with 
a  disparaging  finger  directed  to  the  gentle- 


THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO,          nj 

man's  vagabond  feet,  "  it  always  went  against 
me  to  take  the  advice  of  a  man  whose  boots 
were  laughing  at  him." 

Howbeit,  a  generous  rivalry  prevailed  among 
them  to  make  themselves  and  their  abode 
presentable  to  the  eyes  of  a  critical  and  fas- 
tidious sex.  It  is  not  written,  the  degree  of 
discomfort  men  will  cheerfully  endure,  pro 
vided  the  poverty  of  their  surroundings  be  not 
exposed  to  feminine  scrutiny.  The  daughter 
of  the  Old  Man  had  hitherto  occupied  in  the 
minds  of  all  a  mythical  existence.  He  had 
never  alluded  to  her  but  once  before,  and  then 
in  such  a  vague  and  general  way  as  to  provoke 
a  pardonable  skepticism  in  his  auditors.  It  was 
at  the  last  shearing — a  time  when  the  entire 

"  outfit  "  at  the  ranch  was  overburdened  with 

• 

work — that  the  Old  Man  had  suddenly  devel- 
oped an  untoward  desire  to  visit  his  daughter, 
and  had  persisted  in  adhering  to  it  in  spite  of  all 
efforts  to  persuade  him  to  the  contrary. 

Upon  his  return  to  the  camp,  a  slight  and 
ironical  cross-examination  to  which  he  had 
been  subjected  by  his  partners,  had  been  sus- 
tained by  that  worthy  with  commendable  for- 
titude, and  by  degrees  the  occurrence  had  been 


1 1 8          THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO. 

forgotten  amid  the  monotonous  duties  of  their 
daily  lives.  Roused  now  by  his  sudden  an- 
nouncement into  spasmodic  anxiety  for  out- 
ward appearances,  they  developed  a  surprising 
energy. 

A  slight  inspection  of  the  externals  of 
American  sheep-ranches  is  calculated  to  impress 
the  observer  unfavorably.  It  would  seem 
that  civilized  man,  as  he  retrogrades  toward 
barbarism,  develops  attributes  common  to 
lower  animal  life.  To  leeward  of  these  arks  of 
human  progress  are  found  degraded  articles  of 
ephemeral  adornment,  so  shamelessly  aban- 
doned as  to  suggest  the  discarded  sloughs  of 
some  hitherto  unclassified  reptilian.  A  life,  so 
near  to  nature's  heart,  apparently  imbues  its 
beneficiaries  with  unexampled  charity,  for  a 
reckless  prodigality  is  shown  in  the  contribu- 
tion of  cast-off  clothing.  An  exceptional  im- 
munity from  the  privileges  of  female  society 
had  made  the  gentlemen  of  the  South  Brady 
phenomenal  in  this  regard,  and  a  commendable 
prudence  in  the  manipulation  of  a  querulous 
wheelbarrow,  was  necessary  to  remove,  these 
gratuitous  donations  to  a  remote  locality.  Ap- 
propriate attention  was  also  devoted  to  an  ap- 


THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO.          119 

parent  ubiquity  on  the  part  of  empty  tin  cans,  as 
imparting  to  the  surrounding  landscape  a 
vagrant  picnic  suggestion. 

But  it  was  to  the  interior  of  the  little  cabin 
that  their  efforts  at  rejuvenation  were  most 
directed.  An  endeavor  was  manifest  on  the 
part  of  the  ranchmen  to  eradicate  all  traces  of 
former  masculine  occupancy.  In  this  they 
perhaps  followed  a  latent  impulse  of  the  sterner 
sex  to  idealize  woman  in  proportion  as  her  per- 
sonality is  less  frequent.  Howbeit,  the  gradual 
accumulations  of  masculine  debris  were  all 
satisfactorily  removed,  and  the  walls  cleared  of 
a  picturesque  and  warlike  tenantry.  A  small 
cot-bed  was  reared  in  one  corner,  and  every 
possible  effort  made  contributory  to  personal 
comfort.  And  then  the  hand  of  utility  was 
superseded  by  that  of  art,  and  the  Oracle's 
taste  for  decoration  was  displayed.  The  rude 
interior  was  illuminated  by  the  flash  of  birds' 
wings  ;  and  the  plumage  of  green-winged  teal, 
and  red-shafted  flicker,  and  prairie  bird-of- 
paradise  vied  with  one  another  in  imparting  to 
the  room  a  gay  and  bizarre  appearance.  Two 
pairs  of  small  deer  antlers  were  furnished  by 
the  Cook  and  securely  fastened  to  the  walls— 


1 20  THREE  STREPHOXS  OF  CONCHO. 

a  species  of  hat  and  clothes-rack  much  affected 
upon  the  frontier ;  and  when  the  neighboring 
valleys  had  contributed  several  knots  of  wild 
verbena  and  buffalo-clover,  their  faint  perfume 
seemed  already  anticipatory  of  feminine  pres- 
ence. 

But  I  think  it  was  in  personal  matters  that 
the  gentlemen  most  palpably  acknowledged  the 
speedy  advent  of  the  Old  Man's  daughter.  This 
was  evinced  by  extraordinary  solicitude  and  in 
a  manner  entirely  characteristic  of  each.  The 
Cook — although  the  recipient  of  unusual  license 
in  costume  at  the  hands  of  his  companions  on 
account  of  the  peculiarly  trying  nature  of  his 
duties — had  of  late  been  given  over  to  unpar- 
donable abandon.  This  apparent  shameless- 
ness  had  resisted  all  appeal  or  criticism  on 
the  part  of  his  associates,  but  now  yielded 
gracefully  in  favor  of  their  prospective  visitor. 
Impelled  by  that  inevitable  law  of  extremes 
which  attends  all  social  revolutions,  his  subse- 
quent decorum  of  dress  even  went  so  far  as  to 
adopt  a  small  paper  cap,  which  he  invariably 
wore  while  attending  to  all  matters  of  the 
cuisine.  A  surprising  daintiness  also  possessed 
him  in  the  preparation  of  articles  for  the  table. 


THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO.         121 

Appetites  upon  the  frontier  are  too  keen  to 
be  fastidious.  He  who  caters  to  them  feels  that 
he  has  but  two  requisites  to  fulfill.  If  meals 
are  forthcoming  at  the  appointed  hour,  and  in 
sufficient  quantity  to  appease  the  customary 
vacuum,  there  is  little  complaint.  A  conscious- 
ness of  this  fact,  together  with  the  somewhat 
tedious  character  of  the  gentleman's  labors,  had 
made  him  of  late  quite  careless  and  perfunc- 
tory. But  now  the  beans  must  be  carefully 
assorted  and  frequently  washed  ;  the  bacon  was 
invariably  treated  to  a  hot-water  bath  before 
frying — a  process  hitherto  omitted,  ostensibly 
for  fear  of  destroying  the  flavor,  and  the  pro- 
portions of  soda  and  shortening  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  bread  were  scrupulously  adhered  to. 

In  consequence  of  these  efforts  the  monoto- 
nous viands  developed  a  refinement  and  relish 
hitherto  unknown. 

At  the  same  time  the  position  of  the  Cook,  as 
chief  magistrate  of  the  domestic  bureau  at  the 
ranch,  encouraged  him  to  introduce  certain  inno- 
vations in  table  etiquette  characteristic  of 
his  political  bias  for  civil  service  reform.  He 
required  the  performance  of  ablutions  before 
presentation  at  table,  and  endeavored  to  make 


122  THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO. 

this  measure  popular  by  himself  setting  the 
example.  The  gentlemen  were  also  urged  to 
adopt  the  revived  conventionalism  of  wearing 
coats  at  meals,the  Deacon  being  publicly  request- 
ed not  to  eat  with  his  knife  ;  and  then,  having 
with  infinite  pains  succeeded  in  manufacturing 
a  set  of  napkins  out  of  apiece  of  cotton  " sheet- 
ing," this  social  mentor,  from  his  position  at  the 
head  of  the  festive  board,  requested  their  sub- 
sequent use,  and  an  entire  discontinuance  of  the 
former  demoralizing  habit  of  improvising  nap- 
kins of  their  trowsers'  legs  as  imparting  an  alto- 
gether untidy  personal  appearance. 

The  preliminaries  resorted  to  by  the  Oracle 
were  entirely  those  of  dress,  and  were  limited 
to  the  rather  ostentatious  wearing  of  a  highly 
starched  and  boldly  checked  pink  shirt,  inflict- 
ing upon  the  beholder  by  the  ambitious  roll  of 
its  collar,  an  unusually  long  and  bilious  neck. 
Unremitting  attention,  however,  to  a  guitar  that 
had  long  hung  neglected  above  his  couch,  and 
by  its.  vagabond  appearance  and  relaxed  and 
broken  strings  seemed  to  argue  the  decadence 
of  Euterpe's  worship  at  the  ranch,  together 
with  repeated  calls  upon  a  certain  "Jennie,"  to 
await  the  "  rolling  by  "  of  seemingly  distressing 


7^1  REE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCH  O.          123 

"  clouds,"  and  an  apparent  desire  to  inflict  the 
superfluous  fact  that  there  was*  a  "lovely  little 
spot  down  in  Southern  Tennessee,"  were  not 
without  filling  his  companions  with  forebodings 
that  the  Oracle  was  contemplating  a  serenade. 
As  the  musical  efforts  of  the  Oracle  were  not 
attended  with  that  harmony  which  the  melo- 
dious instrument  might  seem  to  imply,  a  feeling 
of  mild  despondency  at  this  juncture  pervaded 
the  camp. 

Whatever  change  in  mode  of  life  was  con- 
templated by  the  Deacon  seemed  to  be  entirely 
restricted  to  personal  cleanliness.  That  reti- 
cent individual  at  once  developed  a  tendency 
to  bathe  twice  a  day  and  rigidly  adhered  to  it. 
As  his  performance  of  this  ceremony  was  quite 
public,  his  comrades  were  divided  between 
skepticism  and  alarm  as  to  what  course  he 
would  elect  upon  the  arrival  of  their  guest,  but 
eventually  came  to  regard  his  idiosyncrasy  as  a 
peculiar  propitiatory  observance.  Having  dis- 
carded his  mendicant  boots  for  a  more  present- 
able pair,  he  proceeded  to  grace  his  left  foot 
with  a  large  silver  spur,  which,  in  spite  of 
abundant  ridicule,  he  thereafter  persisted  in 
wearing.  Whether  he  affected  this  singular 


124           THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO. 

appendage  because  he  fancied  that  it  gave  him 
a  general  flavor  of  the  cavalier,  or  whether  he 
adopted  it  as  a  means  of  urging  forward  future 
dilatory  ewes,  was  a  matter  of  ungratified 
curiosity  at  the  little  camp,  for  on  this  subject 
the  Deacon  preserved  his  customary  reticence. 

In  such  characteristic  fashion  were  their 
various  preparations  made.  And  then,  as  if  in 
recognition,  there  slipped  benignly  through  the 
gates  of  Dawn  a  succession  of  days  so  mild  and 
calm,  filling  the  flowering  prairie  with  a  joy  so 
beatific,  a  peace  so  infinite,  that  it  rested 
upon  their  labors,  like  Heaven's  benediction, 
and  at  the  close  of  one  of  these  perfect  days,  an 
equestrian  footfall  startled  the  dwellers  by  the 
little  creek,  and  rushing  from  their  humble 
cabin  they  beheld  a  lovely  apparition  framed 
against  the  golden  sunset.  So  gracefully  this 
apparition  sat  her  horse,  so  lovely  did  she  look 
in  the  hush  of  the  gloaming,  that,  I  wot,  it  was 
with  a  feeling  akin  to  worship  that  the  men  un- 
covered, and  beheld  her  spring  from  her  horse, 
crying,  "  Well,  father,  I  reckon  I've  got  here 
at  last!" 

And  there  was  little  doubt  she  had.  For 
when  they  had  overcome  the  first  awkwardness 


THREE  STREPttONS  OP 

of  their  meeting  with  a  proverbially  bewilder* 
ing  sex,  and  it  had  further  transpired  that  this 
divinity  was  dangerously  gracious ;  that  she 
was  charmed  with  the  result  of  their  efforts  in 
her  behalf;  and  that — in  a  manner  thoroughly 
superficial  and  maidenlike — she  declared  im- 
mediately that  she  believed  ranching  must 
be  "  just  too  lovely  for  any  thing  " — these  rude 
bachelors  of  Concho  County  straightway  fell  to 
adoring  her,  each  after  his  separate  fashion.  I 
know  not  how  to  account  satisfactorily  for  this 
singular  idolatry.  Perhaps  their  long  exemption 
from  feminine  influences  made  the  gentlemen 
unusually  susceptible.  But  I  have  to  record 
that,  in  her  radiant  presence,  they  were  speedily 
overcome  with  a  sense  of  their  entire  unworthi- 
ness  to  consort  with  so  charming  a  creature ; 
that  the  young  lady  was  not  slow  to  perceive 
her  ascendency;  and  that,  after  the  manner  of 
Circe  of  old,  the  siren  soon  transformed  them 
into  abject  and  willing  slaves. 

It  was  not  long  before  "  Miss  Kate,"  as  they 
all  called  her,  began  to  blight  the  sociability  of 
her  attendant  knights.  Hitherto  there  had 
been  a  remarkable  unanimity  of  feeling  in  the 
little  camp,  and  much  good  humor  and  a 


J26       THREE  STREP  HO  xs  OF  coxciio. 

general  tolerance  of  individual  foibles  had  pre- 
vailed. Now,  however,  in  proportion  as  she 
lavished  the  charm  of  her  society  upon  one  or 
another  of  the  trio,  its  favored  recipient 
incurred  the  envy  and  criticism  of  the  neglected 
two. 

"  I  come  along  by  the  buck-pen  to-day,'*  re- 
marked the  Deacon  to  the  Cook,  in  one  of  those 
outbursts  of  confidence  which  were  rare  with 
him,  "and  there  I  seen  somethin'  thet  done  me 
good.  You  know  how  musical  the  Oracle  hez 
been  lately.  Well,  he  was  a-singin'  thet  duet 
of  Miss  Kate's  from  the  '  Muskrat '  or  somethin' 
or  other,  an'  a-blatin'  to  her  about  how  much 
he  liked  herdin'  sheep,  and  she  was  a-replyin' 
very  sweet  about  how  particular  fond  she  was 
of  tendin'  turkeys,  and  all  the  while  thet 
McCarthy  buck  was  a  sort  o'  sniffin'  the  air  and 
pawin'  a  little,  ez  ef  he  reckoned  it  disturbed 
his  peace  of  mind  ;  and  then,  when  they  got 
down  to  thet  wind-up,  where  they  were  givin' 
their  imitations  of  the  critters  they  admire,  I 
seen  him  put  his  head  down  and  step  back  a 
few  paces,  an'  I  kno\\*ed  what  was  comin'. 
Well,  my  boy,  I'm  a  tenderfoot  ef  he  didn't 
take  the  Oracle  plum  aft  just  when  he  was 


THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO.          127 

a-reachin'  fur  high  C,  and  lifted  him  clean 
over  three  sheep.  I  nearly  broke  my  heart 
laughin'." 

Although  the  merriment  of  both  Cook  and 
Deacon  seemed  to  argue  that  both  regarded  the 
Oracle's  mishap  as  a  species  of  retribution  for 
an  unwarrantable  monopoly  of  the  young 
lady's  attractions,  yet  my  duty  as  a  veracious 
chronicler  compels  me  to  state,  that  the  Deacon 
eventually  consulted  the  Oracle  in  reference  to 
certain  conversations  which  the  Cook  was  wont 
to  hold  with  this  coveted  Miss,  while  he  was 
occupied  in  the  prosaic  employment  of  washing 
dishes,  and  that  it  was  a  matter  of  grief  to  each 
— as  an  unconscious  index  of  preferment — that 
on  one  occasion  the  condescending  goddess 
had  actually  assisted  hinri  in  this  menial  occupa- 
tion. Similarly,  when  the  Deacon  developed  a 
tendency  to  cull  fresh  wild-flowers  morning 
after  morning,  and  to  place  them  in  a  vase  as  a 
votive  offering  to  the  fair  one,  the  opinion  pre- 
vailed with  both  masculine  critics  that  he  was 
altogether  too  bold  and  officious. 

But  the  tendency  to  disunion  on  the  part  of 
the  partners  was  speedily  checked  by  a  circum- 
stance that  called  for  a  concentration  of  forces. 


128          THREE  STREPHOXS  OF  COXCHO. 

A  visit  to  the  neighboring  sheep-pen  in  the  gray 
dawn — one  week  after  the  arrival  of  the  dis- 
quieting element — revealed  the  fact  that  their 
flock  had  been  increased  by  forty  new  arrivals 
during  the  previous  night.  These  callow  inno- 
cents were  shivering  in  the  early  morning  air, 
and  with  plaintive  bleats  accepting  the  misery 
of  infancy  in  all  the  despondency  that  young 
lambs  exhibit.  Their  worthy  mothers — evi- 
dently bewildered  by  the  similarity  of  their 
various  progeny — were  in  the  customary  agonies 
of  doubt  as  to  which  one  of  the  awkward  un- 
fortunates was  her  particular  property.  One 
and  all,  however,  exhibited  that  proud  elevation 
of  the  head  and  intractable  obstinacy  which 
only  the  maternal  ewe  can  successfully  affect, 
and  with  which  she  invariably  sees  fit  to  signal- 
ize her  acceptance  of  the  higher  responsibilities 
of  life. 

In  short,  from  calm,  methodical  sheep  they 
had  been  transformed  into  anxious,  nervous, 
and  panic-stricken  mothers,  and  were  clamorous 
for  assistance  in  their  emergencies.  All  was 
complaint  and  confusion.  Here  two  stubborn 
ewes  had  resolved  to  contest  the  ownership  of 
one  grotesque  infant,  and  it  needed  the  sagacity 


THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO.         129 

of  King  Solomon  to  detect  the  impostor,  while 
the  poor  foundling  of  the  recreant  ran  helplessly 
hither  and  yon,  meeting  the  scorn  and  rebuffs 
of  all  respectable  sheep.  Here,  a  good  mother 
divided  her  affections  over  a  pair  of  pretty 
twins,  and  there,  bereavement  was  attended  with 
loud  lamentation,  and  in  a  remote  corner  of  the 
pen  "  Rachel,  mourning  for  her  children, 
refused  to  be  comforted." 

Apparently  the  Arcadian  life  of  a  sheep-ranch 
was  at  an  end,  and  more  serious  labors  awaited 
these  Strephons  of  the  frontier.  Something  of 
the  sternness  of  this  conviction  was  upon  them, 
as  the  partners  threw  aside  their  coats  and  sprang 
into  the  pens.  Then,  indeed,  was  displayed  the 
superior  intelligence  of  man.  The  young  lambs 
and  their  mothers  were  all  "  cut  out  "  carefully 
from  the  main  herd,  and  segregated  in  one  of 
the  small  pens;  while  the  bleating  flock  poured 
from  the  brush  barriers,  and  went  forth  under 
the  care  of  dog  and  herder  for  the  pasturage  of 
the  day.  One  of  the  twins  was  "  blanketed  " 
with  the  hide  of  the  dead  lambkin  and  placed 
in  a  crib  with  the  lamenting  mother,  until 
such  time  as  she  decided  to  accept  it  as  the 
offspring  she  had  lost.  Such  ewes  as  were  dis- 


13°          THREE  STREP  HO  XS  OF  CONCHO. 

posed  to  ignore  the  claims  of  parentage  were 
tethered  to  various  trees,  and  their  lambs  placed 
beside  them,  that  in  the  solitude  of  their  com- 
panionship they  might  be  taught  to  forget  their 
idiosyncrasies.  So  that  it  was  upon  a  busy  and 
bustling  camp  that  Miss  Kate  dawned  later — 
an  immaculate  vision  of  starched  serenity — 
dainty-cuffed,  snowy- collared,  and  with  an 
amused  curiosity  in  her  brilliant  eyes. 

And  here  she  was  made  acquainted  with  her 
own  share  in  their  labors,  for  the  Old  Man  had 
decided  that  she  must  pay  the  penalty  of  her 
visit  by  taking  charge  of  the  buck-herd  from 
day  to  day.  In  vain  his  younger  associates 
protested,  and  advised  that  the  young  lady 
should  have  company  ;  their  gallantry  was  un- 
availing against  the  deductions  of  the  Old 
Man's  logic. 

And  so  it  happened  that,  an  hour  later,  an 
erect  and  graceful  shepherdess,  equipped 
against  the  admiration  of  the  ardent  sun  with  a 
gaudy  parasol,  and  additionally  armed  with  a 
fantastic  crook,  fared  out  upon  the  prairie  with 
the  solemn  husbands  of  the  flock.  I  wot  their 
ovine  majesties  were  entirely  unaccustomed  to 
the  tutelage  of  so  charming  a  Bo-peep,  but  their 


THREE  STREP  HO  NS  OF  CON  C HO.         131 

grave  deportment  betrayed  nothing  of  the 
charm  of  novelty.  They  appeared  to  accept 
Miss  Kate  as  an  unnecessary,  albeit  a  very  pic- 
turesque fact ;  and,  after  they  had  thrown  her 
into  "  unpicturesque  hysterics,"  by  an  apparent 
disagreement  as  to  whether  their  route  lay  up 
or  down  creek,  and  which  they  proposed  to  de- 
cide by  a  reverberating  cannonade  against  one 
another's  skulls,  they  were  as  serious  in 
demeanor,  and  as  pre-occupied  with  their  own 
affairs,  as  these  discreet  and  masculine  sheep 
are  wont  to  be.  So  that  when  the  young  lady 
had  tired  of  noting  their  general  resemblance 
to  a  lot  of  old  hook-nosed  Rabbis,  the  novelty 
of  tending  them  began  to  pall,  and  she  was 
driven  first  to  her  book,  and  eventually  to 
gathering  wild-flowers,  from  an  absolute  dearth 
of  any  appreciative  object  to  exercise  feminine 
arts  upon. 

And  here  she  exhibited  the  customary 
nervousness  of  a  sensitive  and  discriminating 
sex,  for  at  every  turn  Miss  Kate  was  apparently 
fearful  of  hidden  terrors,  with  which  her  femi- 
nine imagination  peopled  the  surrounding 
wilds,  and  every  rustle  of  the  short  prairie  grass 
was  deprecated  with  certain  shivers  and  forced 


132          THREE  STREP HOKS  OF  COKCHO. 

retreats — presumably  apprehensive  of  those 
"  horrid  snakes  "  which,  since  the  misfortune  of 
Mother  Eve,  have  been  so  terrifying  to  her 
many  daughters.  When,  therefore,  she  had 
thankfully  escaped  the  bristling  horror  of  an 
inoffensive  horned-toad,  that  skittered  *  trem- 
ulously away  at  her  approach,  she  was  obliged 
to  run  the  gauntlet  of  a  brilliant  lizard — actu- 
ally two  and  one-half  inches  in  length — that 
regarded  her  with  glittering  eyes  and  palpitat- 
ing throat  from  an  adjacent  stone,  and  two 
chattering  prairie-dogs,  which  appeared  to  re- 
sent the  gaudiness  of  the  young  lady's  parasol. 
And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  Miss  Kate, 
with  this  parasol  advanced  like  a  shield,  and 
her  crook  poised  and  aggressive  —  a  rosy, 
but  defiant  Amazon,  very  much  out  of 
breath,  and  with  one  of  her  dark  tresses 
escaping  from  her  hat  and  dancing  upon  her 
shoulder — encountered  an  animal  more  dan- 
gerous than  any  she  had  yet  met,  but  one  with 


*  The  "horned  toad  "  of  Texas  has,  in  a  state  of  healih,  a 
quick,  darting  movement.  Such  specimens  as  we  see  here  are 
usually  half  or  entirely  starved,  and  have  no  vitality.  They 
never  hop. 


THREE  STREP  HO  NS  OF  CONCHO.  133 

which  she  was  far  better  qualified  by  bounteous 
nature  to  contend. 

For  there,  recumbent  and  solitary  in  a  little 
grassy  hollow,  was  the  Oracle,  gazing  vacantly 
up  into  the  blue  sky,  where  a  gray  hawk — a 
mere  soaring  speck  in  the  limitless  ether — was 
wheeling  slowly  heavenward.  Undoubtedly 
Miss  Kate  recoiled  with  a  little  scream  of 
astonishment,  and  expressed  her  great  surprise 
at  finding  him  thus  idle  when  his  associates 
were  so  busy  at  the  ranch  ;  whereupon  it  ap- 
peared that  the  Oracle  had  been  in  quest  of 
the  horses,  as  was  his  daily  habit,  and,  being 
somehow  unable  to  find  them,  had  thrown 
himself  down  to  rest  a  few  moments  before 
proceeding  further.  Accordingly,  when  this 
careful  maiden  had  accounted  satisfactorily  for 
the  present  whereabouts  of  the  young  man,  she 
became  entirely  oblivious  of  the  necessity  of 
future  movement  on  his  part,  and  sitting  down 
beside  him,  challenged  him  with  feminine  in- 
consistency to  an  Arcadian  tete-a-tete,  in  the 
course  of  which  she  expressed  herself  with  a 
surprising  wealth  of  superlative  as  completely 
carried  away  by  the  poetry  of  the  ranching  life. 
And  then  it  appeared  how  different  was  the 


134  THREE  STKKPI10XS  OF  COX C HO. 

Oracle's  view ;  how  he  had  had  five  years  of 
this  tedious  experience,  and  was  heartily  sick 
and  tired  of  it ;  how  he  was  alone  in  the  world 
and  destitute  of  sympathy — at  which  point 
Miss  Kate  being  rash  enough  to  offer  hers,  she 
was  immediately  informed,  with  all  the  ardor 
of  a  Southern  temperament,  that  it  lay  in  her 
power  to  dissipate  all  this  misery  and  to  make 
the  Oracle  the  happiest  of  men. 

It  is  my  duty  to  state  at  this  juncture  that 
when  Miss  Kate  was  thus  confronted  with  the 
havoc  her  charms  had  wrought,  she  was  seized 
with  contrition,  and  experienced  that  remorse 
which  her  sex  are  unaccustomed  to  develop 
until  too  late  for  practical  purposes.  Yet  I 
can  not  entirely  exonerate  her  from  all  blame. 

A  lady  of  her  attractions,  and  who  had  been 
accustomed  to  note  the  demoralizing  tendencies 
of  her  arts  whenever  she  chose  to  smile  upon 
the  masculine  portion  of  frontier  society,  should 
certainly  have  refrained  from  exerting  her  fas- 
cinations upon  the  inexperienced  ranchman. 
Now  that  the  mischief  was  done,  she  impressed 
upon  the  Oracle  as  kindly  as  she  could  the 
impossibility  of  his  request,  and  then  was 
suddenly  overwhelmed  with  grave  misgivings 


THREE  STREPHENS  OF  CONCHO.          135 

for  the  welfare  of  her  neglected  sheep,  and  left 
the  discomfited  gentleman  quite  abruptly.  But 
once  out  of  his  presence,  the  regretful  beauty 
was  overcome  by  a  surprising  gayety  and  by 
fits  of  uncontrollable  laughter  which  she  was 
fain  to  explain  at  intervals  throughout  the 
afternoon  in  bursts  of  confidence  to  her  indif- 
ferent flock. 

With  few  interruptions  and  extraordinary 
success  the  labors  of  the  ranchmen  of  Concho 
County  were  prosecuted.  It  is  with  pleasure 
that  I  record,  as  an  instance  of  the  refining 
power  of  woman,  that  these  labors  were  unac-* 
companied  by  the  customary  profanity.  It 
will  be  perhaps  difficult  for  me  to  impress  my 
civilized  reader  with  the  edifying  quality  of 
that  morality  which  could  resist  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  time.  They  have  not  known  the 
trials  and  perplexities  of  the  lambing  season. 
But  when  I  assure  them  that  it  is  customary 
for  sheepmen  to  compress  within  these  short 
six  weeks  the  entire  profanity  of  the  year,  and 
testify  that  during  this  privileged  season  I  have 
myself  detected  grave  elders  of  the  Church,  and 
even  frontier  gentlemen  of  the  clerical  profes- 
sion, voicing  their  wrath  in  opprobrious  epithets, 


136  THKEE  STREPHONS  OF  CON C HO. 

and  hurling  lurid  contumely  upon  certain  refrac- 
tory ewes,  I  trust  I  may  convey  some  slight 
notion  of  the  phenomenal  character  of  their 
forbearance.  Yet  even  in  this  blameless  fashion 
days  and  weeks  flew  by,  and  Miss  Kate's  visit 
was  drawing  to  a  close. 

It  was  then  that  our  lovely  Urania  became 
disagreeably  conscious  that  the  Cook  had  ex. 
changed  his.  functions  for  those  of  a  sighing 
Strephon.  His  customary  loquacity  was  gone; 
his  culinary  efforts  were  mechanical  and  unsuc- 
cessful ;  the  bacon  was  invariably  burned  and 
the  bread  inexcusably  sour.  Given  over  to 
"  flashes  of  silence,"  he  was  moody  and 
distraught. 

Personally  experienced  in  noting  the  ravages 
of  the  tender  passion  in  the  sterner  sex,  Miss 
Kate  viewed  the  emergency  with  manifest  fore- 
boding, and  endeavored  to  avert  the  impending 
crisis  by  avoiding  him,  and  showing  a  marked 
preference  for  the  society  of  the  reserved  and 
diffident  Deacon.  It  chanced,  however,  that  on 
a  certain  rainy  day  the  lady  found  it  necessary 
to  seek  the  cheering  warmth  of  the  kitchen 
fire,  and  there,  after  a  long  and  depressing 
silence,  the  Cook,  who  was  engaged  in  setting 


THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO.          137 

the  table,  asked  her,  in  a  sadly  despondent 
tone,  if  she  had  ever  noticed  how  lonely  a 
knife  looked  without  a  fork  being  placed  beside 
it.  Miss  Kate,  with  a  boding  feeling  of  alarm, 
was  coldly  unconscious  of  this  characteristic  of 
cutlery. 

"  I  reckon  it's  just  thet  way  I  look,  for  it's 
certainly  the  way  I  feel,  Miss  Kate,"  said  he, 
"when  you're  away  with  them  sheep  on  the 
range.  A  month  ago  I  wouldn't  have  thought 
it  possible,  but  now,  unless  I  can  get  a  glimpse 
of  your  purty  face,  I'm  as  soggy  as  bread  with- 
out 'east,  and  as  flat  as  beans  without  salt. 
Lookin'  at  it  by  an'  large,  I  reckoned  the  best 
thing  for  me  to  do  was  to  jest  naturally  state 
the  case  to  you,  for,  if  you've  no  objection  to 
pull  in  double-harness — why — one-quarter  of 
them  sheep's  mine,  and  we'll  start  a  ranch  to. 
morrow  on  our  own  account."  He  raised  his 
eyes,  which  had  been  cast  down  embarrassedly, 
but  Miss  Kate  had  ungraciously  fled,  leaving 
him  staring  with  the  knife-box  in  his  hand. 

The  lady  absented  herself  from  dinner  that 
day  on  the  plea  of  lack  of  appetite,  but  in  the 
seclusion  of  her  little  room  was  visited  by  the 
same  unaccountable  merriment  that  had  seized 
Jier  on  another  occasion. 


138          THREE  STREP H ON S  OF  CONCHO. 

Late  that  night,  as  Miss  Kate  was  about  to 
retire,  she  discovered  an  uncommonly  large 
bouquet  upon  her  little  table,  and  a  small  slip 
of  paper  protruding  from  the  petals  of  a  flam, 
ing  cactus  that  seemed  to  her  apprehensive  fancy 
to  typify  the  ardent  devotion  of  the  sender. 
Hurriedly  seizing  this  she  read  the  following 
letter,  which,  from  the  many  blots  that  covered 
it,  and  the  painfully  cramped  nature  of  the 
handwriting,  suggested  great  labor  as  well  as 
embarrassment  in  its  composition  : 

"SWEETEST  MISS — I've  been  puttin  off 
speakin  to  you  about  suthin  thet  hez  botherd 
me  fur  a  right  smart  chance,  an  somehow  I 
never  cud  git  to  say  it  to  you  yet.  I  spoke  to 
the  old  man  about  you  yesterday  and  he  like 
to  kill  himself  alaughin,  so  I  didnt  quite  make 
him  out,  but  reckon  it  tickled  him.  I  sorter 
suspicioned  youd  ketch  on  from  the  bokays — 
for  I  wouldnt  botherd  so  much  fur  eny  other 
gal  an  I  reckon  yer  the  peartest  in  all  Concho 
an  ye  seem  to  be  tuk  with  sheep-ranchin  so  I 
reckon  ye  know  what  I  mean  now  an  if  your 
agreeable  please  ware  thet  purple  dress  an  thet 
big  white  collar  that  makes  you  look  just  like 
an  angell,  an  I  am  yours.  DEACON." 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  young  lady  ap^ 


THREE  STREPHONS  OF  CONCHO.          139 

peared  to  be  afflicted  with  mental  obliquity  in 
regard  to  the  meaning  of  this  vague  epistle,  but, 
as  a  precautionary  measure,  appeared  in  an  en- 
tirely different  dress  at  breakfast  the  following 
day. 

It  was  toward  sundown,  several  days  after 
this,  that  Miss  Kate — as  demure  now  as  she  was 
pretty — requested  her  three  suitors  to  accom- 
pany her  to  the  top  of  a  neighboring  "  divide," 
whither  she  had  of  late  been  wont  to  repair, 
and  from  which  the  road  to  Paint  Rock  was 
plainly  visible.  As  they  toiled  up  the  ascent 
her  manner  was  eager  and  her  face  flushed  ancl 
expectant.  Soon  after  their  arrival  they  per- 
ceived a  horseman  approaching  them  at  a  gal- 
lop. As  he  drew  near  it  was  apparent,  from  the 
unmistakable  clothes  of  his  calling,  that  he  was 
a  handsome  cow-man,  evidently  returning  from 
some  remote  "  round-up."  After  the  fashion  of 
those  knights  of  the  rein,  he  did  not  check  his 
speed  until  almost  upon  them,  when  his  skilled 
hand  threw  his  mustang  upon  his  haunches,  and, 
dismounting,  he  approached  them  rather  myster- 
iously from  out  the  cloud  of  dust  that  hungabove 
the  fury  of  his  sudden  halt.  But  the  three  part- 
ners were  shocked  to  see  Miss  Kate  throw  herself 


140          THREE  STREPHONS  OF  COXCHO. 

with  a  cry  of  joy  into  the  arms  of  this  gallant 
equestrian,  and  completely  stunned  by  her 
instantly  presenting  him  to  the  trio  as  her 
absent  husband.  In  a  surprisingly  short  space 
of  time  the  reunited  couple  were  left  alone 
upon  the  hill. 

But,  half-way  down  the  descent,  the  Oracle 
stopped  and  laid  a  hand  upon  the  rugged 
shoulder  of  each  of  his  companions,  and  gazed 
into  their  humiliated  eyes. 

"  To  think,  boys — to  think — thet  for  the  last 
six  weeks  thet  ornery  Old  Man  has  been  takin' 
on  in  private,  and  quietly  playin'  this  hull  out- 
fit— thefs  what  jest  naturally  gets  me  /  " 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 


TT  was  the  close  of  the  Spring  "  round-ups."  For 
1  weeks  past  the  hollow  valleys  had  resounded 
with  angry  bellow  and  hurrying  hoof.  The 
organized  bands  of  horsemen  that  with  goad- 
ing shout  and  swinging  lariat  had  pressed  the. 
flying  squadrons  of  the  plains  were  all  disbanding 
and  breaking  up.  The  last  calf  had  been  roped 
and  branded  ;  the  last  drifting  estray  cut  out  and 
turned  back  into  his  own  territory.  Left  to 
themselves  at  last,  the  tortured,  panic-stricken 
cattle  dispersed  in  straggling  troops  along  the 
river-bottoms,  or  panting  sought  the  shade  and 
security  of  the  higher  hills. 

It  was  indirectly  due  to  this  fact  that  the 
little  town  of  Paint  Rock,  on  the  afternoon 
of  May  5,  1883,  was  the  scene  of  excep- 
tional hilarity.  Not  that  its  usually  quiet  and 


142  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

well-behaved  inhabitants  took  part  or  shared  at 
all  in  the  present  excitement.  A  long  contem- 
plated picnic  had  absorbed  its  feminine  attrac- 
tions, and  apparently  levied  largely  upon  its 
masculine  resources.  The  present  levity  was  to 
be  attributed  entirely  to  the  irruption  of  a  dis- 
cordant and  unusual  element.  For  the  past 
fortnight  stray  bands  of  cow-boys  had  been 
dropping  into  the  little  frontier  town,  until  on 
the  afternoon  in  question  its  single  narrow 
street  was  unpleasantly  vocal  with  these 
knights  of  the  rein.  It  would  seem  that  the 
available  remainder  of  its  citizens  was  needed 
to  represent  the  two  prominent  business  inter- 
ests of  the  locality.  Within  the  popular  pre- 
cincts of  his  seductive  saloon,  Mr.  James  Wily 
dispensed  alcoholic  consolation  over  his  narrow 
bar,  and  held  out  the  fascinations  of  civilization 
in  the  musical  click  of  billiard  balls  and  the 
ominous  rattle  of  other  ivory  that  was  not 
spheroidal. 

"  Yer  see  how  it  is,"  explained  "  Kickapoo 
Dick,"  to  the  unsuspecting  spouse  whom  he  had 
lately  wedded,  and  who  had  discovered  certain 
parti-colored  discs  in  the  pocket  of  his  ducking 
jacket, — "  When  a  feller  plays  a  game  of  bil- 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  143 

lards,  he  hez  the  privilege  o'  takin'  a  drink  or 
gettin'  a  check.  Now  /allers  takes  a  check." 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  village  the  rival 
establishment  of  Hackett's  furnishing  store, 
apparently  possessed  an  equal  attraction  in  the 
prominent  display  of  revolvers,  leathern  leg- 
gings, knee-boots,  sombreros,  "  slickers,"  and 
other  frontier  articles  of  utility  and  adornment. 
Both  did  a  flourishing  business,  and  their  inco- 
herent and  effusive  patrons — in  the  expressive 
vernacular  of  Paint  Rock, — were  engaged  in 
"  running  the  town." 

Doubtless  this  peculiar  enterprise  of  the 
Texan  cow-boy  possessed  little  interest  for  Mr. 
Josh  Blunt.  He  had  officiated  at  too  many 
performances  of  like  nature  to  find  their  details 
either  novel  or  engrossing.  When,  therefore, 
the  eccentric  gentlemen  in  the  billiard-saloon 
evinced  a  disposition  to  begin  the  festivities 
with  a  wild  and  grotesque  war-dance,  accom- 
panied by  an  opening  overture  of  six-shooters 
discharged  at  different  points  of  the  compass, 
but  chiefly,  with  a  becoming  disregard  for  other 
occupants  of  the  premises,  into  the  ceiling 
overhead,  he  languidly  detached  either  elbow 
from  the  bar — in  which  attitude  he  had  been 


144  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

absorbed  in  throwing  dice — and  quietly  passed 
from  the  room.  Neither  did  the  equestrian 
accomplishments  of  several  of  his  brethren  who 
were'  engaged  in  the  ostentatious  breaking  of  a 
wild  mustang  engross  his  attention,  and  he 
beheld  one  of  them  ride  the  pony  up  a  flight  of 
steps  and  into  the  main  room  of  a  furnished 
house  with  the  same  pensive  unconcern. 

Apparently  in  search  of  excitement,  he 
strolled  listlessly  through  the  village,  and  event- 
ually into  the  store  of  Hackett.  Here  he 
gravely  resisted  the  hospitality  of  a  large  paint- 
sign  which  the  enterprising  proprietor  had  hung 
out  in  generous  rivalry  of  the  lower  establish- 
ment, and  whose  flaming  capitals  had  hitherto 
engrossed  the  immediate  attention  of  all  callers. 
"  Whisky  Free  in  the  Back  Room "  was  the 
purport  of  this  popular  announcement.  Here, 
with  the  same  imperturbable  gravity,  he  beheld 
Rube  Smart  purchasing  a  one-hundred-dollar 
saddle,  and  strapping  it  carefully  upon  a  lean, 
broken-winded  broncho  of  the  value  of  twenty- 
five  ;  others  exhibiting  the  customary  solicitude 
in  the  purchase  of  expensive  hats  and  boots,  and 
displaying  a  corresponding  contempt  for  cloth- 
ing intermediate  parts  of  the  body  ;  and  noted 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  145 

variously,  with  the  sneer  of  a  superior  philos- 
ophy, that  unpardonable  extravagance  which, 
in  the  American  cow-boy,  is  the  inevitable 
accompaniment  of  excessive  stimulation.  And 
here  he  received  an  answer  to  a  note  which  he 
had  dispatched  earlier  in  the  afternoon,  the 
receipt  of  which  caused  him  to  look  graver  than 
ever. 

The  fact  was,  the  expectations  of  Mr.  Josh 
Blunt  had  just  been  severely  dashed.  He  had 
confidently  set  aside  this  particular  afternoon 
for  a  long  meditated  call  upon  Miss  Flo  Brooks, 
a  local  belle.  With  due  deference  to  the  de- 
mands of  Texan  etiquette,  and  in  entire  accord- 
ance with  the  established  precedents  of  fron- 
tier society,  he  had  given  notice  of  his  purpose 
by  a  preliminary  note.  I  think  that  Mr.  Josh 
Blunt  was  dimly  aware  that  the  terms  in  which 
he  couched  his  intention  were  not  particularly 
happy.  That,  as  he  laid  down  his  pen,  he  was 
struck  by  the  resemblance  borne  by  his  rude 
handwriting  to  an  erratic  assortment  of  cow- 
brands,  I  am  quite  positive.  However,  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  fact  that  his  former  essays  in 
chirography  had  been  limited  to  the  branding 
of  his  cattle  and  camp  equipments  with  his 


146  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

characteristic  label  3.  X.  C,  and  that  his  im- 
plements had  been  respectively  a  hot  iron  and 
a  jack-knife,  may  have  made  his  own  criticism 
of  his  efforts  peculiarly  generous  and  charitable. 
"  C.  U.  BY.  3."  was  the  terse  and  somewhat 
rebus-like  expression  of  Mr.  Blunt's  laconics. 

But  however  legible  had  been  the  announce- 
ment of  the  gentleman's  purpose,  its  import 
was  apparently  unavailing.  The  message  was 
returned  with  the  information  that  Miss  Brooks 
was  not  at  home  that  afternoon,  and  Mr.  Blunt 
was  correspondingly  chagrined  and  disconsolate. 
Who  had  the  boy  seen  ?  Only  Old  Man  Brooks, 
who  was  setting  out  trees  in  his  door-yard.  Did 
he  know  definitely  where  Miss  Flo  had  gone? 
No!  Old  Brooks  definitely  didn't;  all  he  could 
say  was  that  Miss  Flo  had  disappeared  imme- 
diately after  dinner,  and  as  her  pony  was  gone 
from  the  barn,  he  "  reckoned  she'd  took  a  ride 
somewhar."  Mr.  Blunt  must  call  again. 

Accustomed  to  note  the  freedom  that  charac- 
terized Miss  Brooks's  movements,  Mr.  Blunt  did 
not  feel  called  upon  to  express  himself  in  regard 
to  Old  Brooks's  ignorance  of  his  daughter's 
whereabouts,  or  to  advert  disparagingly  upon 
his  many  short-comings  as  a  parent.  In  com- 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  147 

mon  with  the  rest  of  the  eligible  youth  of  the 
locality,  Mr.  Blunt  had  long  ago  arrived  at  the 
conclusion  that  if  Old  Brooks  attempted  any 
innovations  in  parental  government,  or  any  in- 
fringements of  personal  liberty,  he  would  have 
his  hands  full  in  enforcing  them.  Miss  Flo  was 
known  to  have  a  mind  of  her  own,  and  to  be 
tenacious  of  keeping  it.  The  wife  of  Old 
Brooks — a  faded  "  specimen  of  Texan  efflor- 
escence " — after  a  few  vain  attempts  in  the 
way  of  suggestion  and  precept,  had  resigned 
in  despair.  Left  to  the  inadequate  care  of  her 
father,  she  was  accredited  with  the  distinguish- 
ing accomplishment  of  *'  running  the  old 
man." 

Perhaps  she  had  very  little  to  run.  Old 
Brooks  was  a  cheerful  example  of  thriftless 
good  fortune.  As  an  instance  of  the  pecuniary 
reward  that  awaits  persistent  endeavor,  he  was 
not  a  success.  He  was  a  native  of  the  State, 
and  in  his  early  life  had  accepted  the  easy, 
shiftless,  vagabond  life  of  a  frontier  tramp.  He 
had  bloomed  and  blossomed  with  the  prairie 
grasses,  and  apparently  with  as  little  effort.  An 
overweening  confidence  in  the  enticements  of 
"  Mexican  Monte  "absorbed  his  scanty  earnings, 


148  AN  EPISODE  OF  P AIN'T  ROCK. 

and  the  acceptance  of  Paint  Rock  whisky  as  & 
fortifier  against  pecuniary  loss  had  at  one 
time  threatened  to  abbreviate  his  "gilded  and 
ephemeral  existence."  But  a  day  of  triumph 
dawned.  In  one  short  hour  of  marvelous 
luck,  Brooks  absorbed  the  capital  and  broke 
the  bank  of  the  "  Blue  Goose  Saloon."  I  have 
not  space  to  dilate  upon  the  round  of  fashion- 
able dissipation  with  which  Brooks  saw  fit  to 
signalize  his  phenomenal  good  fortune.  Suffice 
it  that  at  the  end  of  a  week — most  of  the  in- 
habitants of  Paint  Rock  being  in  consequence 
in  a  state  of  depressed  alcoholism — he  awoke 
to  a  consciousness  of  disorganized  nerves,  and 
the  decease  of  the  ruined  gambler  who  had 
sought  surcease  of  sorrow  in  suicide.  In  a  fit 
of  remorse  Brooks  buried  the  professional 
gentleman,  and  invested  the  sum  left  from  his 
convivial  exploits  in  a  herd  of  cattle.  If,  in 
accordance  with  natural  laws,  this  investment 
had  quadrupled  in  value,  Brooks  had  little 
more  than  impulse  to  thank  for  his  present 
wealth.  But  with  the  assumption  of  social  im- 
portance and  position  as  a  cattle  owner,  he  dis- 
carded his  dissipated  habits.  Not  so  for  a  long 
period,  his  primitive  method  of  housekeeping, 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  149 

or  his  frontier  style  of  dress.  It  had  not 
occurred  to  Brooks  that  bacon  and  beans  as  an 
article  of  diet,  or  rawhide  and  red-flannel  as  an 
external  covering,  were  inconsistent  with  his 
rank  as  the  richest  cattle  man  in  Concho  County. 
He  received  his  first  intimations  on  this  head 
from  his  aging  wife  and  maturing  daughter. 
Acting  by  an  inspiration  from  that  quarter,  he 
had  erected  a  commodious  frame  house,  fur- 
nished it  sumptuously,  and  somewhat  suspi- 
ciously accepted  some  of  the  comforts  of  a 
growing  civilization ;  but  he  still  resisted  all 
attacks  upon  his  conventional  raiment  as  an 
infringement  of  an  inherent  prerogative.  This 
singular  obstinacy  was  a  matter  of  deep  grief  to 
the  shoddy  sensibilities  of  Mrs.  Brooks. 

"  Yer  jest  blightin'  Flora's  prospects  and 
killin'  the  rest  of  the  furniture  by  yer  ornery 
an'  permiskiss  appearance,"  she  had  remarked 
to  him  on  one  occasion.  As  the  catalogue  of 
Miss  Flo's  suitors  had  hitherto  included  only 
illiterate  cow-men,  Mrs.  Brooks's  remonstrance 
seemed  scarcely  pertinent.  Indeed,  the  aspir- 
ing tendencies  of  mother  and  daughter  had 
obtained  for  them  the  distinction  of  being 
" stuck-up."  This  social  attitude  was  visited 


150  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAIXT  ROCK. 

with  appropriate  resentment  by  their  female 
neighbors. 

"  Ef  thet  woman  o'  Old  Brooks  allows  to 
lord  it  over  me  by  slingin'  style,"  said  Mrs. 
Judge  Treddle,  as  she  stretched  a  temporary 
clothes-line  between  the  posts  of  her  front-gal- 
lery,— "  I  reckon  I'll  remind  her  o'  what  she 
was  onct.  'Pears  she's  clean  forgot  that  she  an' 
me  took  in  washin'  when  this  yer  town  was 
only  a  camp.  An'  the  airs  o'  thet  Flo  o'  her'n, 
with  her  starched  petticoats  and  embroidered 
flounces,  a  reckonin'  herself  a  heap  better  nor 
my  Clorinder,  along  o'  her  Galveston  eddica- 
tion,  an'  novel  readin',  and  sendin'  out  her  duds 
to  git  washed  !  I  ain't  naterally  no  patience 
with  her  for  a  lazy,  stuck-up  piece!" 

Whereupon  the  indignant  matron,  with  much 
exaggeration  of  effort  and  appropriate  derisive 
pantomime,  exhibited  herself  at  the  washtub 
to  the  gaze  of  her  former  laundry  assistant, 
when  she  took  her  customary  afternoon  ride, 
and  hung  up  her  entire  contribution  to  that 
lady's  fading  memory,  in  flapping  and  humiliat- 
ing testimony  upon  the  front  porch. 

All  these  peculiarities  of  his  Dulcinea's 
family  were  familiar  to  Mr.  Josh  Blunt,  as  he 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK,  \  5 1 

accepted  his  disappointment,  and  lounged 
slowly  back  to  the  Blue  Goose  Saloon.  All  at 
once  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  would  have  an 
early  opportunity  of  meeting  his  fair  one.  He 
was  reminded  first  of  an  impending  "  hop  "  at 
the  residence  of  Old  Brooks,  and  second  of  his 
degraded  corporal  condition.  It  occurred  to 
him  that  his  appearance  might  be  improved 
and  his  feelings  benefited  by  the  luxury  of  a 
bath.  He  was  so  impressed  by  this  reflection 
that  he  communicated  it  to  the  gentlemanly 
proprietor  of  the  Blue  Goose. 

"  My  Christian  friend,"  said  that  gentleman, 
walking  to  the  doorway,  and  comprehending 
Blunt's  unwashed  exterior  and  the  remote  land- 
scape in  a  single  glance  of  paternal  solicitude, 
"yonder  is  the  Concho  River,  and  here's  a  piece 
of  soap  !  Perhaps  from  gin'ral  appearances  it 
might  improve  you  to  take  advantage  of  both. 
Far  be  it  from  me  to  prevent  any  hankerin'  o' 
yours  for  thet  kind  of  refreshment,  but  I  keeps 
no  bathin'  establishment !  " 

With  which  cheerful  avowal  he  resumed  his 
duties  at  the  bar,  and  the  astonished  Mr.  Blunt 
leaped  into  his  saddle  and  galloped  away. 

Meanwhile,  the  missing  Camilla  of  his  affeg- 


152  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

tions,  mounted  upon  her  little  pony,  was  scour- 
ing the  long  levels  that  led  to  the  Ford,  very 
picturesque  in  her  pretty  riding-dress,  very 
animated  in  demeanor,  and  very  rosy  with 
exercise.  An  hour  before  the  arrival  of  Mr. 
Blunt's  missive  she  had  slipped  quietly  to  the 
barn  in  the  rear  of  her  father's  house,  and 
"  cinching  "  the  saddle-girths  of  "  Pansy  "  with 
her  own  pretty,  trembling  fingers,  dashed  away 
over  the  trackless  prairie  with  a  careless  free- 
dom that  betrayed  her  familiarity  with  her 
surroundings.  Indeed,  in  an  aesthetic  sense,  it 
was  a  matter  of  regret  that  there  was  no  appre- 
ciative spectator  to  carry  away  with  him  the 
memory  of  her  charming  presence.  From  the 
wild  verbenas  which  an  inspiration  peculiarly 
feminine  had  led  her  to  twine  among  the  dark 
tresses  of  her  imperious  little  head,  to  the 
shapely,  well-booted  foot  that  peeped  occasion- 
ally from  the  plunging  skirts  of  her  habit,  she 
was  very  bewildering  in  a  locality  where  that 
epithet  could  not  with  safety  be  applied  to  the 
majority  of  her  sex.  But  if  she  escaped  the 
admiration  of  a  society  perhaps  too  extrava- 
gant in  its  appreciation  of  feminine  charms, 
there  were  other  animate  critics  unusually 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  153 

voluble.  It  seemed  to  Miss  Flo  that  she  had 
never  known  the  prairie-dogs  so  enthusiastic, 
applauding  her  in  pigmy  hosts,  with  monoto- 
nous encore,  from  their  many  burrows,  or  sitting 
speechless,  bolt  upright,  and  with  protesting 
fore-paws  acknowledging  her  many  fascinations. 
A  monkish  chaparral-bird  who  was  out  that 
afternoon  on  his  regular  parochial  calls  was 
constrained  to  mount  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree 
and  survey  her  admiringly  as  she  passed.  After 
which  he  hurried  away,  shaking  his  grave  head 
beneath  its  cowl,  as  if  he  were  more  than 
usually  impressed  with  the  vanity  of  all  earthly 
things.  And  even  when  she  neared  the  river, 
a  heavy,  lumbering  owl,  slipping  from  the 
shady  depths  of  a  pecan,  was  fain  to  express  his 
surprise  in  a  soft  "  Hoo-oo !  "  of  inquiry — a 
question  which  he  had  never,  hitherto,  felt 
called  upon  to  ask  by  daylight. 

I  think  Miss  Flo  was  glad  to  reach  her  ren- 
dezvous. Certainly  her  manner  was  eager, 
although  about  her  moist,  red  lips  there  was  a 
playful  petulance  that  was,  perhaps,  as  danger- 
ous as  it  was  fascinating.  The  spot  where  she 
had  halted  was  singularly  picturesque  and  charm- 
ing. It  was  a  little  hollow  in  the  river's  margin, 


154  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

embowered  among  the  mesquites  whose  scanty 
shade  was  supplemented  by  clinging  creepers 
and  trailing  vines.  Within  its  leafy  circle  a 
jubilant  spring — that  brawled  over  a  ledge  of 
rocks,  and  dripped  its  crystal  overflow  into  a 
rocky  basin — held  out  a  promise  of  coolness 
and  quiet  amid  a  flickering  half-light  of  spray 
and  shadow,  particularly  grateful  after  the  fierce 
glare  without.  Through  a  rift  in  the  foliage, 
the  broad,  sluggish  Concho  glistened  in  the 
sunlight,  and  sparkled  away  in  slow  moving 
shallows,  over  which  a  fish-hawk,  intent  upon  his 
finny  prey,  was  tremulously  poised.  And  away 
on  the  farther  bank,  a  motte  of  huge  pecans, 
standing  like  giant  sentinels  over  the  dwarfed 
landscape,  filled  the  eye  with  remote  vistas  in 
their  shady,  twilight  aisles. 

It  was  very  still.  Sitting  quietly  in  her 
saddle,  Miss  Flo  could  hear  distinctly  the  shout 
of  some  of  the  picnickers  on  the  farther  shore, 
and  even  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  fluttering  ribbon, 
or  the  gathered  skirts  of  some  curious  rambler 
against  the  painted  bluffs  beyond,  still  pictur- 
esque with  the  uncouth  record  of  a  fleeting 
race. 

Indeed    the   little   frontier  village   had    its 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  155 

memories  of  the  warlike  Apaches.  But  their 
familiar  frescoes  had  little  interest  for  the  fair 
equestrienne. 

Her  quick  eyes  wandered  rapidly  and  dis- 
appointedly up  and  down  the  river.  Then  she 
turned  them  listlessly  upon  objects  within  her 
bower.  Here  they  encountered  other  hiero- 
glyphics— equally  rude,  but  modern  in  character. 
From  the  nature  of  these  sculptured  legends, 
this  sequestered  spot  seemed  to  suggest  a  tryst. 
There  was  the  likeness  of  a  rude  heart  upon 
the  opposite  tree;  grievously  transfixed  by  the 
archery  of  Cupid.  And  lower  down  were 
certain  letters  and  initials,  united  by  the  curving 
brace  with  which  youthful  sentimentalists  are 
wont  to  indicate  mutual  affinity. 

Suddenly  a  plaintive  murmur  was  wafted 
from  the  opposite  shore.  Miss  Flo  raised  her 
head  with  a  slight  start.  The  dim  spaces  of 
the  remote  pecans  were  filled  with  white,  tum- 
bling, flocculent  masses  that  surged  against  their 
trunks,  and  ran  nervously  along  the  river's 
margin.  A  rising  flush  crimsoned  her  tell-tale 
cheeks,  and  half  unconsciously  she  murmured 
the  single  word — "  Sheep!  " 

The  shrinking,  timid  herd  recoiled  from  the 


156  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

brink,  exhibiting  a  feminine  coyness  about 
wetting  their  dainty  buskins.  At  last  a  horse- 
man made  his  way  slowly  through  the  dividing 
throng,  leading  by  a  confining  rope  a  reluctant 
ewe  whose  bell  tinkled  fitfully  as  if  in  remon- 
strance and  alarm.  Still  seated  in  the  saddle, 
he  plunged  into  the  shallows,  dragging  behind 
him  his  timorous  charge.  A  wail  of  deprecation 
rose  from  the  woolly  spectators  upon  the  shore. 
Then  they  developed  a  solicitude  and  sympathy 
peculiarly  ovine,  running  anxiously  from  point 
to  point,  and  impatiently  chiding  the  receding 
captor.  A  few  of  the  boldest  ventured  into  the 
pebbly  shoals ;  their  example  was  instantly 
followed  by  others  who  thronged  behind  them. 
Ahd  first  a  trembling,  swaying,  pontoon-like 
barrier  was  stretched  across  the  silent  river ;  and 
then  an  irregular,  surging  host,  deprecating  the 
discomforts  of  this  enforced  paddling. 

Hidden  within  her  leafy  covert  that  concealed 
her  brilliant  eyes  and  heightened  color,  Miss 
Brooks  scrutinized  carefully  the  approaching 
horseman.  He  appeared  to  be  a  strong,  well- 
made  Englishman,  with  a  good-humored  face 
that  had  lost  something  of  its  ruddy  complexion 
before  the  fierce  sun  of  southern  latitudes.  Not 


A  tf  EPJS  ODE  OF  PA  INT  RO  CA\  1 5  7 

until  he  had  dismounted  and  was  bending  com- 
passionately over  the  discomfited  ewe  which 
seemed  to  have  absorbed  an  unnecessary  amount 
of  water  in  her  enforced  fording  and  was  quite 
faint  and  dripping,  did  the  young  lady  betray 
her  presence.  At  this  juncture  she  coughed 
slightly  and  waved  a  small  handkerchief.  The 
young  man  looked  up,  caught  sight  of  the 
fluttering  signal,  and,  with  an  exclamation  of 
pleasure,  sprang  again  into  the  saddle  and  rode 
hurriedly  into  the  bower. 

I  have  a  reluctance  about  transcribing  the 
particulars  of  the  meeting -that  took  place 
within  those  sacred  precincts.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  however,  a  contemplative  raven  that  was 
lazily  sunning  himself  in  an  adjacent  tree-top, 
had  his  finer  feelings  shocked  by  the  informality 
of  the  young  lady's  greeting,  and  the  enthusi- 
astic advances  of  her  companion.  There  was  a 
certain  novelty,  too,  about  the  proceedings,  aris- 
ing from  the  fact  that  the  tete-a-tete  was  eques- 
trian, and  that  there  seemed  to  be  an  occult 
sympathy  between  their  mustangs,  who  pressed 
their  heaving  flanks  together,  while  their  riders 
leaned  across  in  their  saddles,  and  exchanged 
certain  salutes  and  caresses,  that,  to  the  mind 


158  .          AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

of  the  somber  and  solitary  ascetic  upon  the  limb 
above,  appeared  entirely  inconsistent  with  con- 
fidential  communication.  He  croaked  his  dis- 
gust and  flew  away. 

Then  there  were  murmurs  too,  and  hand  pres- 
sures, preliminary  to  a  not  overwise  conversa- 
tion, but  which,  perhaps,  the  sincerity  of  expres- 
sion pardoned.  In  the  course  of  which  there 
were  certain  vague  references  to  Galveston  that 
probably  accounted  for  this  surprising  intimacy, 
and  the  disclosure  that  a  Mr.  Percy  Russell 
was  just  from  Abilene  with  2,000  head  of  Cali- 
fornia yearlings,  and  on  his  way  to  his  newly 
purchased  ranch  upon  Upper  Kickapoo.  Inci- 
dental to  all  this,  a  little  episode  occurred, 
which — had  the  boding  raven  remained  to  see 
it — might  have  possibly  disarmed  his  former 
scruples. 

Having  possessed  himself  of  one  of  Miss 
Flo's  small  hands,  he  slipped  a  glittering  cir- 
clet upon  a  dimpled  finger  with  a  light,  caress- 
ing touch.  He  was  still  holding  these  dimpled 
fingers  in  his  own,  when  there  was  a  sudden 
crash  in  the  underbrush,  the  jingling  of  spurs, 
the  snort  of  a  hurrying  steed,  and  a  burly 
figure,  surmounted  by  a  swarthy,  scowling  face, 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAhVT  ROCK.  159 

grasping  the  reins  in  his  left  hand,  and  a  bar 
of  yellow  soap  in  his  right,  burst  abruptly  into 
the  inclosure.  He  gave  the  surprised  couple  a 
hurried,  confused  stare  ;  grew  suddenly  white  ; 
and  dashed  fiercely  away  before  they  had  time 
to  change  their  position.  Both  uttered  a 
forced  laugh  and  glanced  embarrassedly  at  one 
another.  A  silence  followed,  so  long  as  to  be 
both  painful  and  distressing. 

The  pathos  of  love's  communion  seemed  to 
have  been  dissipated  by  this  rude  interruption. 
Miss  Flo  soon  bethought  her  of  returning  home, 
and  Mr.  Russell  was  reminded  that  his  herds- 
men were  arriving  with  the  stragglers  and  de- 
linquents of  his  flock. 

"  Mind  that  you  come  to  the  'hop'  at  the 
house, — to-morrow  night,  dear  !  "  was  her  part- 
ing injunction.  "  And  dress  just  as  you  did  at 
the  'Assemblies  '  in  Galveston,"  she  added  with 
feminine  impulse  ;  "  I'm  so  sick  of  these  frontier 
costumes !  " 

Then  there  was  a  very  pretty,  momentary 
tableau,  during  which  Miss  Flo's  slightly  aqui- 
line profile  was  outlined  against  a  manly  bosom, 
and  then  the  hurrying  footsteps  of  her  horse 
were  heard  in  the  distance. 


160  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

Before  noon  of  the  next  day  there  were 
rumors  in  Paint  Rock  that  an  unpleasant  en- 
counter had  taken  place  at  the  river.  These 
were  necessarily  vague,  but  sufficiently  definite 
to  awaken  lively  anticipations  in  a  community 
where  trifling  social  differences  were  often  at- 
tended with  sanguinary  details.  Mr.  Josh 
Blunt  had  returned  from  his  bathing  trip, 
without  the  bar  of  soap,  but  with  no  visible 
signs  of  an  ameliorated  condition  ;  and  his 
garments  exhibited  signs  of  suffering  from 
thorns  that  were  probably  but  a  mild  prototype 
of  his  more  deeply  lacerated  feelings.  Im- 
mediately upon  his  return  he  had  plunged  into 
unusual  convivial  excess,  and,  when  somewhat 
maudlin,  had  indulged  in  certain  sarcastic  and 
defiant  reflections,  in  which  the  recurring 
phrases  of  "  bloody  Britisher,"  "  bleeding  John 
Bull,"  together  with  frequent  reiteration  of 
the  statement  that  an  inordinate  amount  of 
blood  was  necessary  to  efface  the  recollection 
of  some  unpardonable  wrong,  seemed  to  argue 
a  speedy  gratification  of  the  curiosity  of  his 
auditors.  It  was  at  this  time  that  his  intoxi- 
cated judgment  led  him  to  dictate  an  indignant 
letter  to  Miss  Brooks,  through  the  intervention 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  161 

ot  Kickapoo  Dick  as  amanuensis — a  profound 
conviction  insinuating  itself  even  through  his 
spirituous  disguise  that  the  language  of  symbols 
was  entirely  inadequate  to  the  emergency. 

"  It  seems  to  pint  as  ef  things  might  be  lively 
up  to  Old  Brooks's  to-night,"  remarked  that  gen- 
tleman to  Mr.  Wily,  as  he  recruited  himself 
from  his  labors  at  his  genial  bar.  "  Josh  hez 
been  sharpenin'  thet  bowie  of  his'n  in  a  pensive, 
sighin'  sorter  way,  ever  since  he  got  back,  yes- 
tiddy,  and  whisky  don't  seem  to  improve  him 
none.  He  allows  to  hevin'  a  strong  pussonal 
bias  agin  the  English  shrimp  from  Abilene 
thet  bought  my  ranch.  Reckon  it'd  pay  you 
to  make  a  short  call." 

It  was  a  hot  night.  The  cool  Gulf  breezes 
that  at  that  season  are  wont  to  take  long 
rambles  inland,  visiting  the  odorous  prairie  with 
a  refreshing  coolness  which  is  the  prevalent 
charm  of  a  Texan  night,  preferring  to  linger 
that  evening  in  the  embrace  of  the  booming 
coast.  There  was  an  ominous  glow  in  the  sky, 
and  all  along  the  Northern  horizon  were 
sudden  flashes  of  light  that,  at  times,  burst 
upon  the  eye  in  twisted  corselets  of  fire,  and 
gleaming  links  of  chain  lightning.  Such  stars 


162  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

as  were  visible  were  feeble  and  furtive,  save 
where  the  planet  Mars  blazed  with  an  angry 
flush  above  the  dark  outline  of  the  painted 
bluffs  beyond. 

Lights  twinkled  in  the  Blue  Goose  Saloon, 
where  business  was  unusually  brisk  in  view  of 
the  coming  festivity,  and  where  the  obliging 
proprietor,  in  the  easy  freedom  of  shirt  sleeves 
and  tilted  cigar,  attended  to  the  many  wants 
of  his  customers.  The  violent  ringing  of  the 
bell  of  room  No.  8  interrupted  his  labors. 

"John!"  called  Mr.  Wily  from  behind  the 
bar, — "  see  what  that  English  snipe  is  yankin* 
his  bell  about !  "  The  individual  addressed 
disappeared  up  the  narrow  stairway. 

"Well,  what  is  it?  Cocktails?"  he  inquired 
perfunctorily,  when  the  man  reappeared  a  few 
minutes  later.  "  Cocktails  !  "  retorted  the  man 
ruefully,  "  nary  time !  He  allows  thet  it  dis- 
agrees with  him  to  hev  the  profile  of  former 
hoccupants  starin'  hat  'im  from  hoff  the  pillow 
— don't  yer  know  !  And  thet  ef  he's  goin'  to 
sleep  thar  to-night,  yer  must  change  the  pillow- 
case." 

This  fastidiousness  raised  a  laugh  in  the  bar- 
room. 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  163 

"  Tell  him  to  pin  his  hankercher  onto  the 
pillow,  and  thet  we  don't  make  no  provision 
for  tenderfoots,"  responded  the  proprietor 
cheerfully. 

The  man  departed  with  the  message.  But 
a  violent  jingling  of  the  bell  again  recalled 
him. 

"  Well — what  now  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Wily  with 
an  air  of  resignation. 

"  He's  howlin'  fur  water  now, — and — towels !  " 
gasped  his  breathless  servant. 

"Humph!  Ain't  thar  no  window-curtain  in 
No.  8?  "inquired  the  puzzled  landlord.  "Is 
it  possible  he  don't  know  thet  thar's  a  tin 
basin  down  in  the  bar-room,  an'  other  toylet 
articles  allus  provided  for  the  guests  o'  this  yer 
Hotel?"  he  added  impatiently.  "Git!  you 
idgit  !  he's  playin'  yer!  " 

But  there  were  other  demands,  rapid,  vehe- 
ment, and  persistent,  culminating  in  the  request 
for  a  better  light. 

"  Tell  that  gilt-edged  son  of  a  Juke,"  screamed 
the  now  infuriated  proprietor, — "  thet  the 
electric  light's  out  of  order,  the  telephone's 
broke,  and  the  telegraph  operator  is  out,  just 
now,  on  a  little  pasear,  but  if  it'll  gratify  him, 


164  AN  EPISODE  OF  PA1XT  kGCfa 

we'll  send  to  New  York  by  the  next  steamer 
for  all  the  modern  improvements  !  Ask  him  ef 
he's  aware  thet  he's  in  Texas,  on  the  frontier, 
and  only  three  years  behind  the  Ingins !  Tell 
him,"  he  added  with  withering  sarcasm, — "  thet 
sence  he  wants  the  airth  for  fifty  cents,  we'll 
engage  it  as  soon  as  we  can  get  the  refusal,  and 
while  we're  about  it  we'll  hev  it  fried  and  sent 
up  to  his  room." 

But  his  eloquence  was  stopped  by  the  appear- 
ance of  his  exacting  guest,  enveloped  in  a  long 
English  ulster  that  swept  to  his  heels,  and  with 
an  opera  hat  surmounting  his  audacious  head. 

Mr.  James  Wily  leaned  against  the  bar  for 
support;  his  guests  recoiled  in  dismay;  and 
Kickapoo  Dick,  with  an  assumption  of  exag- 
gerated alarm,  played  for  a  moment  nervously 
with  the  handle  of  his  revolver. 

"  Wai,  dern  my  skin!  "  exclaimed  the  former 
audibly  as  the  faultless  figure  passed  out, — 
"  thet  black  nail  kag  hat  is  what  thet  feller  had 
in  that  leather-case ; — I  packed  it  up  to  his 
room  very  careful,  reckonin'  it  might  possibly 
be  his  duelin'  pistols." 

The  commodious  mansion  of  Old  Brooks 
was  brilliantly  illuminated,  and  its  smiling 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK,  165 

proprietor,  conspicuous  in  a  recently  purchased 
red-shirt,  and  with  his  ingenuous  features 
shining  from  ablutions  unusually  thorough, 
received  his  guests  in  the  front-hall  with  awk- 
ward and  labored  cordiality. 

Prudent  preparations  for  the  coming  festivity 
had  been  made.  The  Brussels  carpet,  imported 
at  great  expense  from  Galveston,  had  been 
taken  up  in  the  parlors,  and  the  modern  furni- 
ture carefully  removed.  "  Jest  to  give  the 
boys  an  opportunity  to  turn  loose  and  sling 
their  spurs  a  little,"  he  confidentially  explained 
to  the  first  arrival.  The  mantel-shelves  were 
occupied  by  a  processional  torch-light  parade 
of  tallow  candles  inserted  in  lager  beer  bottles, 
and  the  posts  of  the  front  gallery  on  which  the 
folding  doors  of  the  ball-room  opened,  sup- 
ported several  parti-colored  Japanese  lanterns. 
The  village  school-master  presided  at  the  melo- 
deon,  and  the  violinist,  who  had  come  forty 
miles  that  day  with  the  up-stage  from  Menard, 
was  seriously  rosining  his  bow.  The  invited 
guests,  affluent  in  white  shirts  and  aggressive  in 
equipment  as  regards  the  masculine  portion, 
and  timid,  blushing,  and  overburdened  with 
ribbons  and  sentiment  in  their  feminine  con- 


1 66  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK, 

tingent — but  all  exhibiting  that  awkward  pre- 
occupation which  characterizes  individuals  to 
whom  social  events  are  only  an  episode,  were 
dispersed  about  the  room,  or  apparently  glued 
to  its  blank  walls,  when  a  flutter  of  excitement 
was  caused  by  the  entrance  of  Miss  Flo,  very 
simply  and  tastefully  dressed  in  white,  and 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  Percy  Russell,  who  was 
in  full  evening  dress.  Then  the  hum  of  con- 
versation was  hushed  by  the  voice  of  Old 
Brooks,  who  had  advanced  to  the  center  of  the 
room. 

"  And  now,  boys,  wade  in,  and  don't  stop  to 
consider  shoe-leather,"  remarked  that  genial 
host  with  informal  hospitality, — "Every  thing's 
ready  for  ye.  Thar's  whisky  and  cigars  in  the 
supper-room  for  them  that  wants  'em,  and  cards 
and  social  convarse  for  them  as  don't  dance. 
Likewise  a  music-box  on  the  settin'  room  table 
that  winds  up  and  may  amuse  them  ez  hezn't 
seen  one  of  them  nateral  tune-grinders.  I 
trust  ye'll  all  act  ez  though  ye  was  to  hum, 
and  jist  naturally  enjoy  yourselves." 

And  even  with  this  easy  introduction,  the 
fiddle  squeaked,  the  melodeon  wheezed  a  son- 
orous accompaniment,  and  the  festivities  began. 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  167 

It  was  a  gala  night  in  the  history  of  Paint 
Rock.  Whether  owing  to  a  social  spirit 
engendered  by  the  opening  speech  of  the  genial 
Brooks,  or  attributable  to  the  more  potent 
influences  of  the  supper-room,  the  mirth  and 
fun  were  soon  fast  and  furious.  Legs  that  in  the 
saddle  were  supple  and  elastic,  but  in  the  meas- 
ures of  the  dance  wofully  uncompromising  and 
erratic,  whirled  in  the  waltz  and  chasseed  in 
the  quadrille.  A  few  scions  of  the  plains,  car- 
ried away  by  enthusiasm,  undertook  certain 
ambitious  steps  and  gambols  which,  regarded 
as  inspirations  acquired  from  a  study  of  the 
habits  of  frolicsome  calves,  were  faithful  and 
painstaking,  but  did  not  contribute  to  the  grace 
or  decorum  of  the  occasion. 

The  festivities  were  at  their  height,  and  the 
dancers  engaged  in  the  performance  of  a  fron- 
tier favorite,  wherein  the  taste  of  both  sexes 
was  displayed  and  an  opportunity  afforded  of 
"bowing  to  the  wittiest,  dancing  with  the  pret- 
tiest, and  swinging  the  one  loved  best,"  and  the 
fiddler,  absorbed  in  the  calling  of  his  figures 
and  carried  away  by  his  own  harmony,  with 
rapt  eyeballs  and  the  grimaces  of  the  natural 
performer,  was  executing  solitary  pirouettes  on 


1 68  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

his  own  account,  to  the  demoralization  of  some 
of  the  audience,  when  there  was  a  shout,  a  mut- 
tered imprecation,  the  sound  of  a  fierce, 
momentary  scuffle,  and  a  man  writhing  fiercely 
in  the  grasp  of  another  who  brandished  a  gleam- 
ing bowie,  struggled  into  the  center  of  the  room. 
It  needed  but  a  glance  to  distinguish  Blunt 
and  Russell.  But  the  latter,  how  changed  !  His 
dress-coat  torn,  his  immaculate  linen  rumpled 
and  soiled,  his  face  bloodless  and  convulsed  by 
the  desperation  of  effort  with  which  he  re- 
strained the  other  from  using  the  knife. 

A  dozen  hands  separated  the  combatants. 
The  frightened  guests  gathered  about  the 
excited  group.  Then  followed  words  of  explan- 
ation and  remonstrance,  that  ceased  as  Old 
Man  Brooks  addressed  the  belligerent  couple  in 
a  tone  of  querulous  disapproval. 

"  It's  playin'  it  rather  low  down  upon  me  an' 
my  family,  gentlemen,"  he  began  rather  feebly. 
"  Is  this  yer  an  Abilene  shindig  that  ye  must 
come  cavortin'  round  with  bowie-knives?"  he 
inquired  of  Blunt  with  a  sudden  access  of  energy. 

That  individual  vouchsafed  no  reply.  His 
eyes  glanced  hurriedly  past  his  interlocutor; 
lighted  up  with  a  baleful  fire  as  they  rested 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  169 

upon  his  late  antagonist ;  and  remarking,  "  Six- 
shooters  ! — on  sight  !  "  he  turned  on  his  heel 
suddenly  and  left  the  ball-room. 

The  music  rose  again  but  the  spirit  of  festiv- 
ity was  broken.  A  more  exciting  topic  pos- 
sessed the  minds  of  all.  Guests,  collected  hi 
little  groups,  discussed  the  recent  incident,  and 
rumor  flew  from  lip  to  lip.  Not  a  few  departed 
altogether. 

In  the  crowded  supper-room,  Kickapoo  Dick, 
seated  luxuriously  cigar  in  mouth,  related  the 
details  of  the  late  unpleasantness  to  a  breath- 
less circle. 

"  The  facts  is  simple,  boys,"  said  that  gentle- 
man, rising  above  the  trammels  of  grammar  in 
the  sincerity  of  his  narration, — "  Me  an'  Josh 
settin'  here  smokin',  passin'  the  bottle,  and 
chattin'  keerless  and  free.  In  comes  thet 
English  shrimp  thet  bought  my  ranch  an' 
.  lights  a  segar  on  his  own  account.  Josh  looks 
up,  sees  English  shrimp,  strikes  an  attitude  and 
says— '  ^4  gar  song !  dern  me!  Here,  waiter, 
parse  me  them  biscuits ! '  English  shrimp 
looks  insulted  and  fetches  him  one  with  thet 
accordion  hat  o'  his'n.  Josh  draws  immejet  an* 
reckons  to  pin  him,  an'  the  rest  yer  knows." 


1 70  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

In  a  corner  of  the  front  gallery,  where  the 
waning  light  of  a  delirious  moon  filtered  through 
the  clinging  tendrils  of  a  Virginia  creeper,  a  pale 
face  and  two  white  arms  were  raised  appealingly 
to  some  one  hidden  in  the  shadow. 

"  I'm  so  frightened,  dear  ! "  said  a  soft  voice. 
"  What  will  you  do?  " 

"  I  fear  there  is  but  one  way  out  of  it,"  came 
sadly  from  the  shadow. 

"  You  mean  that  you  must  fight  ?  "  asked  the 
soft  voice  tremblingly. 

"  I  do,"  was  the  quiet  answer. 

"  Oh,  Percy!  Percy!"  sobbed  the  voice  de- 
spairingly, as  a  cloud  drifted  over  the  moon  and 
the  corner  of  the  gallery  was  enveloped  in 
darkness. 

Long  before  daylight  the  next  morning  the 
little  village  of  Paint  Rock  was  astir.  A  con- 
sciousness of  the  fact  that  two  of  its  visitors 
were  to  "look  for  one  another"  at  daybreak, 
made  the  usually  tranquil  slumbers  of  its  in- 
habitants disturbed  and  restless.  When  it  was 
understood  that  this  inquiring  search  was  to  be 
prosecuted  in  the  long,  tangled  swale  that 
stretched  for  half  a  mile  at  the  foot  of  the 
bluffs  which  gave  the  town  its  name,  there  were 
early  pilgrimages  in  that  direction, 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  17  J 

It  was  a  gray  and  ghostly  dawn.  Pale  mists, 
rising  from  the  river,  were  caught  in  the  spread- 
ing branches  of  the  pecans,  or  drifted  lazily 
across  the  line  of  cliffs,  whose  grotesque  figures 
and  diabolical  devices,  streaked  with  carmine 
and  vermilion,  stared  in  the  truthful  light  of 
early  morning.  With  the  first  rays  of  the  sun 
voices  were  heard  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
swale. 

"  Make  sure  work  of  him,  Josh  !  This  foreign 
capital  is  ruinin'  the  country  !  "  remarked  Kick- 
apoo  Dick  as  he  pressed  a  pair  of  regulation 
"  Colts"  into  the  hands  of  his  principal. 

"  Don't  fret  yourself,"  retorted  the  other 
coolly.  "  I'll  take  care  o'  all  thet." 

On  the  other  side,  Old  Brooks  was  parting 
from  Percy  Russell  with  much  warmth  and 
feeling. 

"  How's  yer  narves,  my  boy  ?  "  he  inquired 
anxiously.  "  Won't  ye  irrigate  before  ye  start 
in?"  producing  a  black  bottle  from  the 
side  pocket  of  his  ducking  jacket.  "  Wai, 
tastes  differ,"  he  soliloquized,  as  Russell  re- 
fused the  proffered  liquor.  "  Perhaps  yer  better 
without  it.  Howsomever,  I  done  all  my  early 
fightin'  on  this  yer  sort  of  inspiration,"  he 


172  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

added,  indulging  in  personal  reminiscence. 
"  Keep  straight  across  by  the  sun.  Line  him 
ef  ye  can,  boy,  and  shoot  smart,  for  he's  right 
peart  with  a  six-shooter,  Josh  is." 

With  this  encouraging  advice  he  stepped 
aside,  and  the  Englishman  disappeared  in  the 
thick  shrubbery. 

Hours  passed.  The  serried  lances  of  the  sun 
pierced  the  tangled  thicket,  but  betrayed  no 
sign  of  life  in  its  silent  depths.  Overhead 
from  the  blue  empyrean  a  pair  of  hawks  called 
shrilly  to  one  another,  and  wove  their  soaring 
circles.  Perched  on  the  jutting  crags  above, 
and  outlined  against  the  horizon,  the  spectators 
watched  and  waited  in  breathless  expectation. 
Bets  were  freely  offered  and  taken  on  the  result. 
Six-shooters  and  silver  watches,  Mexican  spurs 
and  ivory-handled  bowies  staked  with  a  free- 
dom inconsistent  with  the  value  usually  put 
upon  those  articles,  indicated  the  absorbing 
excitement.  Slowly  the  hours  dragged  along. 
The  lengthened  strain  was  beginning  to  tell  on 
the  audience.  What  must  be  its  effect  upon  th-e 
participants  ?  At  last  the  sun,  towering  at  the 
meridian,  sent  the  shadows  .northward.  "  The 
odds  are  even,"  was  the  general  comment  as 
they  shifted  their  positions, 


AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK.  173 

What  was  that  ?  A  shot  surely,  but  so  far 
away  it  sounded  like  the  mere  popping  of  a 
cork.  A  faint  wreath  of  smoke  rose  and  drifted 
away  far  to  the  right. 

The  crowd  upon  the  ledge  brightened  up  and 
listened.  Ten  minutes  passed.  Then,  there 
being  no  repetition,  the  excitement  flagged.  The 
more  elevated  positions  were  abandoned ;  pipes 
were  lighted  ;  some  were  playing  cards.  Slowly 
the  sun  sank  and  the  shadows  lengthened. 

At  length  a  shout  from  Kickapoo  Dick 
dropped  the  cards  from  the  players'  fingers. 

A  figure,  splashed  with  mud,  torn  with  the 
thicket,  was  visible  on  the  trail  nearest  the  river. 
//  was  the  Englishman. 

With  shouts  and  exclamations  of  surprise, 
the  men  hurried  down  the  sides  of  the  bluff 
eager  for  the  news.  What  were  the  particulars  ? 
Had  he  killed  him  at  the  first  fire?  With 
astonishment  they  heard  his  reply.  He  had 
not  seen  Blunt  since  the  night  before. 

Not  seen  him  ?  Had  he  not  heard  that  shot  ? 
Yes,  he  had  heard  the  shot,  and  turned  in  its 
direction,  but  had  seen  nothing.  His  pistols 
were  undischarged. 

They  waited  until  the  next  morning  and  then 


174  AN  EPISODE  OF  PAINT  ROCK. 

began  to  search  for  him.  They  sought  him  all 
that  day  and  the  next,  pushing  their  inquiry 
far  into  the  night  with  lantern  and  torch.  Not 
until  a  gathering  flock  of  buzzards  proved  an 
infallible  compass  upon  that  emerald  sea  were 
their  labors  rewarded.  Then,  with  no  mark  of 
blade  or  bullet,  they  found  him  seated  with 
his  back  against  a  bowlder,  but  so  swollen  and 
ghastly  in  death  as  to  be  almost  unrecognizable. 
His  revolver,  with  one  chamber  discharged,  was 
by  his  side. 

11  Rattlers  !  "  said  Kickapoo  Dick,  kicking  the 
stubby  carcass  of  a  snake,  the  head  of  which 
had  been  neatly  severed  by  a  bullet. 


A     STAGE-COACH    ENCHANTRESS. 


SHE  was  certainly  very  charming.  Amid  all 
the  discomforts  and  annoyances  of  our 
journey,  I  think  we  were  unanimous  upon  that 
point.  In  fact  we  had  grown  to  regard  as  the 
only  pleasant  feature  of  that  long  ride  the  time 
spent  in  little  innocent  gallantries  toward  our 
fair  fellow-traveler  by  way  of  alleviating  its 
tiresome  monotony  for  her. 

But  our  attentions  were  preferred  as  simply 
an  expression  of  that  reverence  which  a  dis- 
criminating sex  feels  called  upon  to  pay  in  the 
presence  of  a  beautiful  woman.  For  we  had 
learned  that  she  was  looking  for  her  husband, 
and  our  polite  rivalry  was  therefore  neither  self- 
ish nor  personal. 

So  that  when  the  Doctor  loaned  her  his  only 
copy  of  Byron  to  read,  it  was  looked  upon  as 
a  graceful  and  becoming  tribute  to  her  fas- 
Reprinted  by  courtesy  of  Mrs.  Frank  Leslie. 


176          A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS. 

cinations,  and  when  the  Judge  anticipated  us  in. 
extending  the  courtesy  of  his  traveling  shawl, 
he  was  regarded  rather  as  one  who  cheerfully 
embraced  the  opportunity  of  adjusting  its 
woolen  folds  to  certain  soft  and  seductive  fem- 
inine curves,  than  as  one  who  thereby  suffered 
any  personal  inconvenience. 

After  the  handsome  gentleman  in  black,  with 
the  luxuriant  corn-colored  beard,  had  barked 
his  finger  slightly  in  a  gallant  attempt  to  adjust 
a  refractory  window  in  the  stage  door,  her  ten- 
der solicitude  and  soft,  feminine  sympathy  per- 
vaded the  coach  with  so  extravagant  a  senti- 
ment that  I  think  she  might  have  called  upon 
the  company  collectively  for  the  shedding  of 
unlimited  blood  in  her  behalf,  and  unquestion- 
ably found  it  forthcoming. 

We  had  been  staging  it  since  earjy  morning 
between  Belton  and  Lampasas,  and  had  barely 
progressed  more  than  half  way.  The  vehicle 
in  which  we  traveled  had  the  generic  quality, 
that  is,  it  was  frowsy,  dingy  and  ill-conditioned, 
with  something  of  the  "  dreariness  of  premature 
decay  superadded." 

It  had  the  average  number  of  decrepit  springs 
below,  that  squeaked  and  protested,  and  the 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.  177 

customary  quota  of  leathern  straps  above,  that 
swayed  and  beckoned  in  a  spectral  fashion 
amid  the  half-light  of  the  dim  interior,  as 
we  bumped,  and  jounced,  and  jolted  on  our 
way. 

The  roads  had  been  heavy,  and  had  dis- 
charged us  at  regular  intervals  from  our  seats 
inside,  to  plod  and  flounder  onward  beside  the 
laboring  conveyance — a  wretched  crew  of  grum- 
bling pedestrians,  under  whose  weary  feet  the 
mud  rolled  up  and  accumulated,  until,  to  those 
compelled  to  carry  this  reluctant  freight,  they 
seemed  to  divide  between  them  the  entire  soil 
of  the  State. 

There  is  nothing  which  in  quality  can  compare 
with  Texan  mud.  It  is  a  thing  sui  generis. 
It  appears  to  be  a  compound  of  clay,  india-rub- 
ber, molasses,  and  glue.  It  exhausts  the  im- 
passioned rhetoric  of  the  exasperated  wayfarer, 
and  inspires  the  hardened  teamster  with  possi- 
bilities in  profanity  of  which  he  has  never 
dreamed. 

"  Nothin'  but  swarin'  got  me  outer  them  ruts 
onct,"  said  "  Belton  Joe,"  the  driver,  as  he 
punched  the  black  mud  that  had  accumulated 
between  the  spokes,  with  a  long  cart-rung — 


1 7 8          A  $TA  GE-COA  Cff  ENCHANTRESS. 

"  nothin'  but  out  an' out  swarin',  sure!  The 
coach  was  stuck ;  my  whip  was  wore  down  ter 
the  stock  ;  the  off  mare  hed  broke  a  trace  ;  and 
thet  thar  leader,  '  Snipe,'  was  layin'  down  in  the 
harness,  when  I  jes'  rared  up  and  invented  a 
cuss  thet  brought  every  thin'  up  stiff  and  standin'. 
I  may  say,"  he  added,  reflectively,  as  he  bit 
off  a'triangular  quarter  of  a  large  plug  of  tobacco 
— "  I  may  say  I  histed  'em  out  by  sheer  con- 
densed cussin'.  Perhaps  now  some  on  ye  might 
like  to  hear  what  I  sed  ?  " 

But  as  the  difficulties  of  the  journey  had  al- 
ready stimulated  Joe  to  an  ambitious  display 
of  acknowledged  powers  in  that  direction,  there 
was  an  apparent  reluctance  on  the  part  of  his 
auditors  to  any  further  rehearsal. 

Perhaps  our  fair  passenger  appreciated  our 
feelings,  and  had  a  feminine  intuition  that  her 
presence  alone  restrained  us  from  a  hearty  at- 
tempt to  emulate  the  driver.  Howbeit,  at  this 
juncture  her  lovely  head  appeared  at  the  win- 
dow, and,  with  a  gracious  nod  and  smile,  she 
said  : 

"  I  imagine,  gentlemen,  by  this  time  you 
agree  with  General  Phil." 

"  Why,  what  about  General  Phil  ?  "  inquired 


A  STA GE-COA CH  ENCHANTRESS.          179 

the  Doctor,  as  he  kicked  a  discouraging  mud- 
boat  against  the  spokes  of  the  wheel. 

"  What  !  Haven't  you  heard  what  General 
Phil  Sheridan  said,  after  a  month  of  deploying 
cannon  down  in  the  Southern  country  ?  " 

Alt  were  ignorant. 

"  Why,  he  said,  gentlemen,"  replied  the  fair 
face,  after  a  moment  of  delicious  indecision — 
"  he  said,  '  If  he  owned  Hell  and  Texas,  he'd 
live  in  Hell  and  rent  out  Texas.'  " 

Of  course  we  were  all  a  little  shocked  at 
this,  but  our  laughter  was  none  the  less  uproar- 
ious. 

"  Gad  !  "  exclaimed  an  effusive  passenger  to 
the  Judge,  as  he  loitered  behind  to  conceal  his 
astonishment.  "  Isn't  she  a  June-bug  ?  " 

"  Young  man,"  said  the  Judge,  severely, 
stopping  short  in  his  tracks,  and  drawing  up  his 
portly  figure  to  its  full  height,  the  more  to  im- 
press his  auditor — "  young  man,  you  should 
be  ashamed — ashamed,  sir,  of  giving  utterance 
to  that  sentiment !  The  idea  of  your  compar- 
ing woman — the  loveliest  conception  of  the 
Almighty,  the  sublimest  creature  that  the  In. 
finite  Being  has  created,  sir — to  a  disgusting 
bug,  sir!  " 


l8o          A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS. 

The  Judge,  it  should  be  said,  who,  as  a 
former  resident  of  the  State  of  Kentucky,  had  a 
strong,  chivalrous,  and  even  romantic  admi- 
ration for  the  sex,  had  himself  fallen  in  the  rear 
of  the  coach  to  recover  his  equanimity  after 
the  fair  one's  recent  effort  of  memory. 

However,  when  he  had  pensively  gathered  a 
few  wild  flowers  by  the  roadside,  including  a 
flaming  blossom  of  the  prickly-pear,  and  had 
presented  them  to  the  lady  with  marked  em- 
pressement,  the  incident  was  forgotten  ;  and 
when  she  had  taken  advantage  of  one  of  the 
long  halts  to  ingratiate  herself  with  the  driver, 
and,  climbing  forward,  so  fascinated  Belton  Joe 
by  a  charming  badinage  of  her  own  that  he  sur- 
rendered the  reins  temporarily  into  her  keeping, 
we  were  all  infected  with  the  general  infatua- 
tion. 

The  Judge,  at  this  point,  being  entirely 
overcome,  quoted  Tennyson,  and  said  so  much 
about  some  one's  "  looking  so  lovely  as  she 
swayed  the  reins  with  dainty  finger  tips,"  and 
discoursed  so  eloquently  upon  the  possibility 
of  "  wasting  his  whole  heart  in  one  kiss  upon 
some  one's  perfect  lips,"  that  we  grew  appre- 
hensive, fearing  that  even  his  legal  lore  might 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.          181 

not  restrain  him  from  an  ambitious  attempt  to 
play  the  part  of  Launcelot. 

But  after  a  few  minutes  more  of  wayfaring, 
during  which  the  road  began  obviously  to  mend, 
we  all  returned  to  the  coach,  and  I,  yielding  to 
an  overmastering  impulse,  assisted  in  restor- 
ing the  descending  Guinevere  to  her  former 
position. 

After  this  we  proceeded  once  more  in  our 
capacity  of  passengers,  and  regarded  one  an- 
other with  the  half-patient,  half-bored  expres- 
sion of  compulsory  travelers. 

Then  some  brilliant  genius  proposed  playing 
cards. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  said  the  affable  Doctor, 
producing  a  pack  from  his  portmanteau,  "  what 
shall  it  be  ?  " 

"  Euchre !  I  reckon,"  said  the  Judge,  slyly, 
after  a  long  and  careful  scrutiny  of  the  lady 
from  under  his  shaggy  brows. 

"  Oh,  dear,  no,"  said  the  fair  one,  looking  up 
from  her  book  and  sitting  up  immediately. 
"  Now,  don't  say  '  euchre '  out  of  deference  to 
me.  Why  bless  you  !  I  know  the  men  all  hate 
it,  and  1  think  '  poker '  is  twice  as  nice.  Play 
poker  by  all  means  i  I  always  have  the  love- 
liest hands ! " 


1 82          A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS. 

A  silence  followed  this  audacious  speech. 
How  were  we  to  interpret  it  ?  Were  we  to 
understand  that  she  contemplated  playing  and 
intended  thus  to  give  us  the  hint  ?  The  em- ' 
barrassment  was  general ;  the  Doctor  became 
absorbed  in  the  gloomy  landscape ;  the  gentle- 
man with  the  corn-colored  beard  nursed  his 
recently  injured  finger  with  renewed  solici- 
tude. 

-At  length  the  Judge  mustered  up  courage, 
and  said  : 

"  But  you  know,  my  dear  madam,  we  play  a 
stiff  game  and  give  no  quarter.  It's  only  last 
night,  at  the  hotel  back  in  Belton,  that  my 
friend,  the  Doctor  here,  took  sixty-eight  dol- 
lars out  of  a  single  '  jack-pot.'  " 

This  pecuniary  statement  apparently  failed 
to  strike  terror  into  the  fair  passenger. 

"Well,"  she  retorted,  with  a  charming  smile, 
"  can't  you  lower  your  *  ante  '  a  little,  pray,  on 
account  of  your  company?  You  gentlemen 
are  certainly  unwilling  to  have  it  said  that  you 
kept  a  lady  looking  on  by  playing  over  her 
head." 

Apparently  this  implied  compliment  to  their 
gallantry  carried  conviction  to  the  hearts  of  her 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.  183 

masculine  hearers,  for  the  game  was  imme- 
diately made  and  proceeded  without  further 
comment. 

It  was  not  an  interesting  game.  Owing  to 
the  jolting  of  the  coach,  and  the  fact  that  the 
cards  were  not  a  "  poker-pack,"  there  were 
afforded  occasional  stray  glimpses  of  player's 
hands  that  deprived  it  of  much  of  the  possi- 
bilities of  "  bluff." 

But  I  mention  it,  with  the  mortification  of  a 
sex  that  apparently  regards  proficiency  in  poker 
as  a  species  of  prerogative,  that  Victory, 
throughout  that  long  December  afternoon,  was 
persistently  a  feminine  goddess.  Nor  shall  I 
soon  forget  the  astonishment  of  the  Doctor — a 
cool  and  skillful  player — when,  after  raising  his 
fair  vis-a-vis  to  the  extent  of  the  limit,  and 
finally  throwing  up  four  queens  in  a  spirit  of 
delicate  courtesy,  he  discovered  that  his  gal- 
lantry was  forestalled  by  a  quartet  of  aces. 

Only  once  did  an  incident  occur'that  in  any 
sense  alleviated  our  chagrin.  This  was  when 
the  effusive  passenger,  gathering  up  his  cards 
eagerly  after  a  fresh  deal,  unguardedly  ex- 
claimed that  he  would  "  bet  his  immortal  soul  " 
upon  his  present  hand.  Whereupon  the  lady, 


1 84          A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS. 

with  great  gravity,  immediately  "  anted  "  a 
compensatory  nickel  and  "called  "  him. 

The  players  were  recovering  from  the  convul- 
sions into  which  this  ironical  episode  had 
thrown  them,  when  there  was  a  subdued  ex- 
clamation from  the  driver,  and  all  the  avail- 
able heads  of  the  party  were  thrust  from  adja- 
cent windows. 

A  magnificent  buck  had  just  crossed  the 
road,  and  was  tripping  leisurely  away  through 
the  scanty  and  dwarfed  shrubbery.  Revolvers 
were  immediately  produced  by  all  hands,  and 
a  sharp  and  straggling  fusillade  followed  at  once 
from  the  windows  of  the  coach,  with  the 
usual  result  among  such  pitiable  marksmen, 
that  their  firing  seemed  to  take  the  form  of  a 
running  commentary  upon  the  animal's  ca- 
pacity of  speed,  and  was  apparently  so  regarded 
by  the  deer,  for  he  started,  took  a  neighboring 
bush  with  inimitable  grace,  and  was  gone  like 
a  flash. 

Our  enthusiastic  sportsmen  now  withdrew 
the  protruding  portions  of  their  anatomy  into 
the  interior  of  the  coach,  apparently  with  the 
expectation  of  finding  its  female  occupant 
in  a  dead  faint  but  were  correspondingly 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.  185 

awed  to  find  her  erect  and  animated,  peer- 
ing at  them  eagerly  through  the  blue 
wreaths  of  smoke  and  pungent  odor  of 
gunpowder  that  filled  the  vehicle,  and  inquir- 
ing eagerly  whether  the  buck  was  down. 

"  Down  !  "  echoed  the  Judge,  with  a  rueful 
expression.  "  No,  not  exactly  down  ;  but  hit 
hard,  madam,  hit  hard !  I  saw  him  stagger 
sort  of  sideways  just  as  I  got  it  in  on  him  with 
my  last  barrel,  and  the  way  he  shook  his  *  flag ' 
when  he  jumped  thar,  made  me  know  I'd 
fetched  him." 

The  effect  of  this  shameless  mendacity  upon 
the  feminine  face  before  him  was  apparently  not 
convincing.  She  smiled  scornfully,  and  there 
was  a  marked  superciliousness  about  her  dainty 
eyelids. 

"  I  don't  believe  any  of  you  can  half  shoot," 
she  finally  exclaimed,  with  charming  directness. 
"  I'll  wager  now  that  I  can  beat  you  all." 

Saying  which,  she  produced  from  a  pocket  of 
her  dress  a  small  Derringer,  and  took  aim  at  a 
little  tree  by  the  roadside. 

The  revolver  cracked,  and  a  splinter  of  bark 
flew  from  the  sapling's  side.  The  coach  re- 
sounded with  plaudits  and  bravos. 


1 86          A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS. 

When  this  modern  Diana  had  restored  the 
weapon  with  a  triumphant  grace  and  heightened 
color,  she  settled  back  comfortably  in  her 
corner  with  an  air  of  having  said,  "  Now  you 
see  why  I'm  traveling  alone,  and  that  I'm 
perfectly  competent  to  take  care  of  myself,' 
closed  her  eyes  dreamily,  and  actually  went 
to  sleep. 

The  coach  jolted,  the  awed  and  observing 
men  glanced  at  one  another,  the  atmosphere  of 
the  dim  interior  seemed  charged  with  re- 
pressed admiration. 

For,  as  I  have  said  at  the  outset,  she  was  cer- 
tainly very-  charming.  Albeit  very  plainly 
clad  in  a  light-gray  traveling  dress,  over  which 
she  wore  a  long,  belted,  brown  ulster,  her  clear, 
cream  complexion  and  brilliant  color  seemed  to 
need  none  of  the  accessories  of  dress. 

At  present  the  saucy  brown  eyes,  that  had 
so  inthralled  her  fellow-travelers,  were  veiled 
by  the  blue-veined  lids  whose  jetty  fringes 
swept  her  flushed  little  cheeks,  and  seemed  to 
mourn  over  them  quaintly. 

Her  red  lips  were  parted  slightly  in  slumber, 
and  the  short  upper  one  curled  like  a  dainty 
rose-leaf,  exposing  the  brilliant  little  teeth,  that 
seemed  to  guard  them. 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.          187 

I  remember  that,  as  I  gazed  at  the  flower-like 
mouth,  I  reflected  with  passing  cynicism  how 
"  every  rose  has  its  thorn  "  ;  but  when  I  noted 
how  the  wealth  of  her  brown  hair  seemed  to 
overburden  the  drooping,  gracious  head  that 
swayed  and  nodded  from  side  to  side,  I  was 
ashamed  of  the  reflection. 

She  had  passed  one  plump  and  symmetrical 
arm  through  a  strap  that  partially  supported 
her  against  the  jolt  of  the  vehicle,  and  her  two 
little  feet,  pushed  resolutely  out  before  her,  and 
almost  defiantly  crossed,  seemed  to  give  her  at 
once  an  air  of  courage  and  abandon  that  was 
not  the  least  of  her  fascinations. 

"  Who's  that  she  said  she  was  lookin'  for  ?  " 
inquired  the  Judge  in  an  awed  whisper,  turn- 
ing upon  us  a  face  that  ill  concealed  the  ad- 
miration of  a  previous  long  and  steadfast 
scrutiny. 

"  Her  husband,  I  believe,"  replied  the  Doc- 
tor, with  a  very  perceptible  sigh. 

"  \  wonder,  gentlemen,"  musingly  returned 
the  legal  representative  of  old  Kentucky — "  I 
wonder  now,  naturally,  whether  he's  a  fighting 
man." 

"  Ef  he  ain't,"  said  the  effusive  gentleman, 


1 88          A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS. 

whom  the  Judge  had  formerly  rebuked  for  in- 
elegant admiration — "  ef  he  ain't,  he  isn't  fit  to 
have  her,  that's  all." 

Evidently  his  last  remark  was  more  popular 
than  his  previous  comment,  for  the  judge 
nodded  approvingly. 

Presently  he  expanded  his  chest  with  an  air 
of  authority,  and  looked  around  upon  his 
auditors  as  if  he  were  addressing  a  jury. 

"  Why,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  in  an  emphatic 
staccato,  "  if  it  had  pleased  the  Almighty  to 
app'int  me  the  terrestrial  guardeen  of  that  be- 
wilderin'  occupant  of  the  back  seat,  it  would 
have  taken  six  yoke  of  Texan  steers  and  a 
sheriffs  posse  to  have  got  me  away  from  her 
loveliness  long  enough  to  swear  a  witness — 
long  enough  to  swear  a  witness  !  Yes,  sir — by 
gad,  sir." 

Having  thus  demonstrated  the  superior 
claims  of  blooming  womanhood  to  those  of 
Texan  jurisprudence,  he  relapsed  into  solemn 
silence. 

But  here  there  was  a  cynical  chuckle  from 
the  front  seat,  and  Belton  Joe  was  observed  to 
be  laughing  quietly  to  himself. 

"  What's  that  she's  givin'  ye  ?  "  he  asked,  ab- 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.  189 

ruptly,  turning  in  his  seat  and  looking  in  at  the 
window. 

"  Who  ?  "  inquired  the  Judge,  with  some 
austerity. 

"  Party — back  seat — inside,"  answered  the 
driver,  professionally. 

"  Says  she's  traveling — looking  for  her  hus- 
band." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  responded  the  cynic.  "  Same 
game,  I  see." 

"  Do  you  know  any  thing  of  this  lady?  "  in- 
quired the  Judge,  solemnly. 

"  Wai,"  said  Belton  Joe,  expectorating 
thoughtfully  upon  the  axle  as  he  reined  up  his 
laboring  team,  "  ef  hevin'  her  for  a  passenger 
for  the  last  eighteen  months,  and  no  good 
comin'  of  it,  is  knowin'  her,  I  reckon  I  does. 
Ef  bein'  able  to  swar  my  Bible  oath  ez  to 
what  her  pertickler  bizness  is,  ridin'  on  this 
yer  road,  I  allow  thet  I  don't.  But  it's  allus 
the  same  old  dodge.  Allus  lookin'  for  her 
husband  ;  allus  chipper  as  a  jay-bird  and  sassy 
ez  a  chipmunk,  with  her  shootin'  off  thet 
little  '  Deranger ' — and  hittin'  her  mark,  too, 
durn  me  !  " 

"  Don't  you  reckon  she's  got  any  husband  ?  " 
inquired  the  Judge,  with  growing  interest. 


Igo          A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS. 

"  Wai,  no,"  said  Belton  Joe,  with  a  provok- 
ing wink;  "I  reckon  I'm  scarcely  young 
enough  to  swaller  thet  jest  yet.  Some  year 
ago,  when  I  didn't  know  a  brake  from  awhiffle- 
tree,  or  a  leader  from  a  wheel-hoss,  p'r'aps 
yer  might  hev  sugar-coated  me  to  thet  extent ; 
but,  hevin'  hed  some  slight  opportunity  sence 
of  lookin'  at  life  by  an' large,  I  reckon  ye'll  hev 
to  excoose  me." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  reckon,  then  ?  "  said  the 
Judge,  impatiently,  and  apparently  being  in 
some  haste  to  abandon  the  idea  that  the  young 
lady  was  a  species  of  frontier  Evangeline. 

"  Wot  do  I  reckon  ?  "  said  Belton  Joe.  "  Oh  ! 
I  allows,  in  course,  thet  she's  a  widder — a 
widder  with  a  taste  fur  travelin' — thet  she's 
nat'rally  keerless  and  free,  an'  thet  her  lettin' 
on  to  hevin'  some  feller  she's  tied  to  is  a  dodge 
to  keep  the  men  at  a  distance — thet's  what  I 
allows." 

Saying  which  he  whipped  up  his  horses,  and 
apparently  discharged  his  mind  of  all  further 
conjecture. 

The  coach  sank  again  into  the  "monotonous 
cry  of  tired  springs,"  and  the  creaking  of  com- 
plaining axles.  Its  occupants  were  apparently 


A  STA  GE-COA CH  ENCHANTRESS.          1 9 1 

lost  in  reverie.  The  road  was  growing  more 
lonely  and  the  shadows  were  lengthening.  The 
slant  sunbeams  of  the  declining  sun  shot 
through  the  window  and  sought  me  out  upon 
the  middle  seat. 

I  retreated  into  the  shadow.  Here  with  my 
head  reclining  at  ease,  and  the  graceful  sway- 
ing little  figure  before  me,  I  abandoned  myself 
to  my  own  thoughts  and  fancies. 

As  a  literary  man  and  a  regular  contributor 
to  the  "  Brady  Bugle,"  I  had  encouraged  and  fos- 
tered my  natural  taste  for  romance,  and  my 
feelings  on  the  present  occasion  partook  of  that 
quality. 

Perhaps  the  pressing  necessity  for  copy  for 
the  week's  issue,  precipitated  my  train  of 
thought. 

Howbeit,  I  found  myself  weaving  a  poetic 
wreath  of  associations  and  fancies  about  the 
unconscious  figure  over  whose  shapely  curves 
the  flecked  sunlight  danced  and  played.  I  was 
inclined  to  doubt  the  skeptical  convictions  of 
"Belton  Joe  the  more  as  the  truthful  influences 
of  slumber  relaxed  and  softened  the  bewitching 
features. 

"  Deception,"  said  I,  "  lurking  behind  those 


192          A  STA  GE-  CO  A  CH  EN  CHAN  TRESS. 

languishing  eyelashes,  dwelling  upon  those 
coral  lips,  or  hiding  in  the  dimples  of  those 
cheeks  ?  Perish  the  thought !  " 

There  is  no  telling  at  what  conclusion  I 
might  have  arrived ;  for,  discarding  all  damag- 
ing reflections,  I  was  drawing  upon  my  imagi- 
nation for  facts,  and  making  flattering  forays 
in  the  "  dim  epistolary  region  of  sentiment," 
when  the  sudden  stoppage  of  the  coach,  and 
the  sound  of  voices  in  altercation,  suddenly 
recalled  me  to  the  present  and  the  practical. 

"Hands  up,  and  tumble  out  here!"  said  a 
gruff  voice. 

At  the  same  moment  a  pair  of  six-shooters 
were  thrust  in  at  the  window. 

"  The  first  man  that  makes  a  motion  or  drops 
his  hand  dies  !  "  the  voice  continued. 

I  started  and  looked  up.  A  hard,  resolute 
face,  accenting  the  cold  fires  of  two  steel-gray 
eyes,  was  visible  behind  the  cocked  revolvers. 

The  passengers,  to  a  man,  accepted  the  re- 
sistless logic  of  the  situation,  and  the  fair  in- 
spirer  of  my  recent  dreams,  being  thus  violently 
restored  to  consciousness,  exhibited  a  sur- 
prising development  of  the  imitative  faculty 
of  her  sex. 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.          \<)$ 

Covered  by  the  revolvers,  which  were  held 
in  dangerous  proximity  to  our  heads  and  in- 
creased our  nervous  haste — we  speedily  extri- 
cated ourselves  from  the  coach. 

Here,  notwithstanding  our  trepidation,  we 
perceived  in  the  gathering  twilight  the  figure 
of  an  accomplice  stationed  at  a  narrow  point 
of  the  road  a  few  rods  in  advance  of  the 
vehicle,  evidently  anticipating  any  stampede 
on  the  part  of  the  driver. 

"  Form  a  line,  with  your  hands  up,"  con- 
tinued our  informal  drill-sergeant,  still  dis- 
agreeably practical  with  his  cocked  revolvers. 

In  spite  of  the  peril  of  our  present  position, 
there  was  something  indescribably  ludicrous 
in  this  marshaling  of  panic-stricken  passengers 
into  a  compulsory  awkward  squad. 

But  the  stern  deductions  of  the  situation  fol- 
lowed too  quickly  to  encourage  merriment. 

"  Empty  yer  pockets  of  money  and  valu- 
ables !  "  said  our  grim  captor.  "  Look  out  for 
'em  now,  Jack  !  "  he  shouted  sharply  to  his 
accomplice.  "  If  they  make  a  break,  let  'em 
have  it  !  " 

We  silently  obeyed,  throwing  down  our 
worldly  availables  at  the  robber's  feet  with  a 


194          A  STAGE-COACH  ENCIfANTRESS. 

reckless  prodigality,  and  a  suggestion  of  idol- 
atry which  might  possibly  have  amused  an 
observer  not  pecuniarily  interested. 

There  was  an  irony  of  implied  complicity  in 
the  bandit's  methods  that  was  peculiarly  gall- 
ing to  the  despoiled. 

The  ceremony  was  soon  completed,  this  un- 
susceptible road  agent  even  going  so  far  as  to 
accept  a  plump  purse  from  the  fair  passenger, 
after  which  he  added  insult  to  injury  by  at- 
tempting to  converse  with  her. 

The  innate  chivalry  of  our  party  rebelled  at 
this.  We  could  stand  being  robbed,  but  this 
direct  contempt  for  social  etiquette  was  at- 
tended by  immediate  expressions  of  disap- 
probation. 

In  the  same  processional  manner,  ai)d  under 
the  same  unpleasant  surveillance,  we  were 
escorted  to  our  former  seats,  after  which  a 
gleam  of  fun  lighted  the  stony  eyes  of  the  foot- 
pad, as  he  thanked  us  for  submitting  so  grace- 
fully, and,  ironically  doffing  his  hat,  ejaculated 


There  was  a  certain  benedictory  flavor  about 
this  Spanish  form  of  dismissal  which,  under 
the  circumstances,  was  painfully  irrelevant. 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.          195 

Our  indignation  at  the  bandit's  delicate 
courtesy  was  in  no  sense  lessened  by  the  dis- 
covery, as  we  passed,  that  the  dreaded  accom- 
plice had  been  improvised  out  of  a  hat,  an  old 
coat,  a  pair  of  trowsers  and  a  forked  sapling, 
which  ingenious  combination  in  the  insincerity 
of  the  waning  light  bore  a  marked  resemblance 
to  a  human  figure. 

The  rhetoric  of  the  party  at  this  point  was 
turbulent  and  impassioned,  and  'ended  in  forci- 
ble denunciation  of  Belton  Joe. 

"  P'raps  ye'll  reckon  to  drive  four  hosses  and 
be  able  to  give  warnin'  o'  road-agints,"  said  that 
worthy  imperturbably.  "  Ef  so,  I'd  like  to  go 
along  with  yer." 

The  effusive  gentleman's  reply,  if  violent, 
had  at  least  the  merit  of  sincerity.  He  forci- 
bly suggested  the  advisability  of  the  driver's 
journeying  in  a  direction  remote  and  unattain- 
able, and  expressed  complete  skepticism  with 
reference  to  his  future  well-being. 

Only  the  Judge  displayed  his  customary 
equanimity.  Quietly  raising  the  cushion  of 
the  seat  on  which  he  sat,  he  took  from  a  rent 
in  its  inner  lining  a  plethoric  wallet,  and  placed 
it  complacently  in  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat 


196         A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHAKT&ESS. 

Whereat  the  charming  figure  on  the  back 
seat,  which  had  during  the  recent  confusion 
displayed  the  feminine  virtues  of  silence  and  a 
snowy  handkerchief,  brightened  up  at  once, 
and  congratulated  him. 

It  was  a  very  despondent  and  discordant 
company  that  a  half-hour  later  drove  up  at  the 
Cosmopolitan  Hotel,  Lampasas. 

Notwithstanding  its  ambitious  title,  the 
querulous  proprietor  was  thrown  into  a  tem- 
porary panic  by  the  irruption  of  so  many 
guests  at  one  time  ;  and  the  enforced  doubling 
up  of  the  occupants  of  the  primitive  hostelry, 
which  was  immediately  ordered,  argued  un- 
favorably for  our  accommodation  during  the 
night. 

Neither  were  our  depressed  feelings  alleviated 
in  any  sense  by  a  singular  notice  which  was 
posted  on  the  walls,  and  stared  conspicuously 
at  us  as  we  were  conducted  to  our  several 


"  Lowngers  and  Setters  not  Aloud  on  the 
Stares." 

The  orthographic  ambiguity  of  this  abstract 
statement  haunted  me  for  several  days. 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.  197 

The  additional  discovery  that  our  apartments 
were  not  furnished  with  lamps,  and  that  all 
demands  of  the  toilet  were  expected  to  be  met 
by  a  tin  wash-basin  and  a  frouzy  brush  and 
comb  in  the  bar-room,  increased  our  discomfort. 

Nevertheless,  the  spirit  of  gallantry  was  not 
quite  crushed  within  us.  We  importuned  the 
distressed  landlord  on  the  part  of  our  fair  com- 
panion, and  finally  succeeded  in  obtaining  for 
her  a  hysterical  hanging-lamp,  that  looked  as  if 
it  would  explode  upon  trifling  provocation,  and 
a  delf  wash-basin  and  water-pitcher,  so  pitifully 
handleless  and  broken-lipped  as  to  entirely 
counteract  the  refreshing  effect  of  the  some- 
what perfunctory  ablutions  they  reluctantly 
afforded. 

The  Doctor  dispatched  to  her  assistance  a 
small  toilet-case  which  he  luckily  happened  to 
have  among  his  luggage,  to  which  act  of  hos- 
pitality the  Judge  humanely  added  that  of  his 
pocket-flask,  with  the  additional  information 
that  it  was  genuine  Kentucky  "  Blue  Grass." 

It  is  probable  that  the  sincerity  of  the  Judge's 
belief  in  the  potency  of  this  article  as  a  forti- 
fier against  pecuniary  loss  overbalanced  his 
usual  delicate  discernment  in  feminine  matters. 


198          A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS. 

Nor  was  our  respect  for  the  fair  one  lessened 
when  the  last  contribution  was  presently  re- 
turned, to  all  appearances  intact. 

When  we  were  finally  summoned  to  supper 
by  the  ringing  of  a  revolving  bell,  elevated 
upon  a  lofty  derrick  outside  the  hotel,  and 
giving  an  impression  of  gratuitous  public  hos- 
pitality which  the  character  of  the  viands 
alone  could  excuse,  and  had  endeavored  to 
satisfy  the  cravings  of  a  long  day's  ride  with 
the  customary  "yellow-ochre"  biscuits  and 
gravy-swimming  bacon  that  were  shoved  at  us 
through  a  long  slit  in  the  wainscot,  on  the 
other  side  of  which  these  culinary  triumphs 
were  evidently  achieved,  the  sentiment  that  our 
general  discomfort  had  been  sensibly  aggravated 
was  universal. 

Not  caring  to  join  the  group  of  natives  who 
gathered  dejectedly  in  the  bar-room,  about  a 
red-hot  box-stove,  at  which  they  vindictively 
spat,  apparently  in  expressive  criticism  upon 
the  recent  meal,  we  soon  retired. 

A  discretionary  caution,  fostered,  no  doubt, 
by  a  bird's-eye  view  of  my  quarters  taken  by 
daylight,  led  me  to  discard  my  pillow,  as  hav- 
ing been  too  privileged  in  its  intimacy  with  a 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.  199 

previous  occupant  of  the  room,  and  to  adopt 
one  extemporized  of  my  boots  rolled  up  in  my 
trowsers — an  expedient  with  which  my  frontier 
experience  had  long  since  made  me  familiar. 

After  a  very  brief  interval  of  unconscious- 
ness I  awoke  to  a  realizing  sense  of  undigested 
biscuits  and  a  dyspeptic  insomnia,  aggravated 
by  my  miserable  surroundings. 

It  was  a  wild  and  gloomy  night.  I  could  hear 
the  wind  outside  buffeting  the  shaky  structure, 
charging  the  crazy  shutters  that  opened  on  the 
gallery,  and  communicating  the  violence  of  its 
assault  to  the  canvas  partitions  which  insured 
to  the  mutual  confidences  of  guests  of  the  Cos- 
mopolitan Hotel  the  general  privacy  of  a  whis- 
pering gallery. 

Lying  broad  awake  and  staring  at  the  night 
in  utter  hopelessness  of  sleep,  I  was  abandoning 
myself  to  despair,  and  possibly  to  anathema, 
when  I  was  diverted  by  the  footsteps  of  two 
belated  revelers  of  Lampasas,  evidently  enter- 
ing the  next  room,  and  about  to  go  to  bed. 

At  such  times  the  most  trivial  details  of  our 
neighbors  are  interesting,  and  I  listened  to  the 
hurried  dragging  of  the  bedclothes  from  the 
bedstead,  preliminary  to  the  preferred  camping- 


200          A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS. 

out  upon  the  floor — a  peculiarity  of  Texan 
lodgers  which  probably  accounts  for  the  gen- 
eral poverty  of  hotel  bed-furnishings  in  the 
State — with  the  satisfaction  of  novelty  after  my 
previous  monotonous  vigil. 

Then  followed  the  kicking  off  of  the  lodgers' 
boots,  and  immediately  afterward,  from  the 
stretching  out  of  cramped  limbs,  the  probable 
settling  of  the  occupants  upon  their  lowly 
couches. 

The  early  rising  of  the  native  Texan  is  appar- 
ently inconsistent  with  an  extensive  night  toilet. 
After  a  short  interval  one  of  the  men  said,  with 
the  air  of  renewing  an  interrupted  conversa- 
tion : 

"  Wai,  ez  thet  the  only  place  ye've  been  to, 
to-day  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  the  second,  "  I've  been  over  to 
Centrefitt." 

"  Ez  thet  so  ?  Wot  ev  they  done  with  Jack 
Bender?" 

Second  Voice  (ominously) — "  Hung  him  !  " 

"Sho!" 

"  Fact !  " 

"  How'd  he  take  it?" 

"  Cool." 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.  20 1 

"  Were  you  thar  ?  " 

"You  bet!  " 

"  Did  he  make  any  confession — squeal  at 
all?" 

"  Nary ! — said  he'd  like  to  ketch  thet  wife  of 
Jim  White's,  thet  he  fust  met  travelin'  on  the 
stage-coach,  who  got  him  soft  on  her,  and  then 
inter  robbin'  the  mails." 

First  Voice — "  Who'd  he  mean  ?  " 

Second  Voice — "  Didn't  ye  never  see  her?" 

"  No  ;  wot's  she  like  ?  " 

u  Oh,  she's  a  brewnette,  putty  as  a  picture, 
an'  smarter  nor  a  whip." 

"  Wot's  she  got  ter  do  with  it  ?  " 

" Wai,  she's  a  sorter  pal  o'  Jim's;  travels 
round,  yer  know,  and  keeps  an  eye  to  the  pas- 
senger's valoobles,  an'  I  reckon  saves  the  ne- 
cessity of  divyin'  '  up,  bein'  his  wife,  ye  know." 

First  Voice — "  Jack  didn't  hev  nothin'  to 
say  about  Jim,  eh?  " 

Second  Voice — "  Nothin'." 

First  Voice — "  Didn't  leave  no  dyin'  words, 
nor  any  thin*  ?  " 

Second  Voice — "  Wai,  yes — he  did  too." 
(A  laugh.)  "  Left  a  sorter  crittercism  on  beer 
drinkin'.  He  was  lookin*  sorter  glum  and  the 


202           A  STAGE-COACH  EXCII AX  TRESS. 

hangman — an  accommodatin'  sort  o'  cuss,  out- 
side o'  his  habit  o'  tyin'  patent  neck-ties — asked 
him  ef  he  couldn't  do  nothin'  fur  him.  Jack 
sez  : 

"  'Yes,  I'd  like  a  glass  o'  beer  'fore  I  go.' 

"  They  brought  it.  Jack  stood  up,  blowed  the 
foam  off  it,  and  drank  it.  The  hangman,  bein' 
a  pryin'  shrimp,  sez  : 

" '  Jack,  I  wanter  ax  ye  one  question.' 

"  *  Sartin,'  sez  Jack. 

" '  Jes'  tell  me  why  ye  blowed  the  foam  off 
thet  yer  beer,  jest  now.' 

"'Wai,'  says  Jack,  reflectin'  like,  'it's  on- 
healthy! 

"  They  strung  him  up  the  next  minit." 

The  humor  of  this  ante  mortem  statement  of 
the  unfortunate  Jack  seemed  to  affect  both 
narrator  and  auditor,  for  from  that  time  for- 
ward nothing  but  subdued  laughter  filtered 
through  the  partition. 

Later,  however,  their  deep  drawn  breathing 
seemed  to  imply  that  it  had  an  additional 
soporific  quality.  Possibly  its  effect  upon  my 
wakefulness  may  have  been  somewhat  similar ; 
for  after  a  long  interval,  for  which  I  was  unable 
to  account  by  any  positive  train  of  thought,  I 


A  STAGE-COACH  ENCHANTRESS.          203 

was  aroused  by  what  appeared  to  me  to  be  the 
rustle  of  a  woman's  skirt  in  the  narrow  hallway. 
Eventually,  however,  I  attributed  it  to  the 
wind  in  the  passage,  and,  turning  upon  my 
rude  pillow,  soon  after  fell  asleep. 

We  waited  the  appearance  of  the  fair  one  for 
some  time  at  breakfast  the  next  morning,  and 
finaHy  the  Doctor  was  deputed  to  represent  her 
admirers,  and  knock  at  her  door. 

To  his  astonishment  the  door  was  open,  and 
the  fair  occupant  of  the  bedroom  missing. 

So  also  was  "  Panhandle,"  the  fleetest  horse 
in  the  hotel  proprietor's  stables ;  and  so  also — 
as  the  enthusiastic  Judge  discovered  later — was 
the  plethoric  wallet  containing  five  thousand 
dollars  in  bank  notes  and  checks,  which  he  had 
so  shrewdly  rescued  from  the  robbery  of  the 
day  before. 

I  concluded  that  there  must  have  been  an- 
other interested  listener  to  the  mysterious  dia- 
logue of  the  previous  night. 


A  WANDERING  MELIBOEUS. 


HE  came  to  the  ranch  in  a  traveling  "  prairie 
schooner," — a  long,  lank,  bilious-looking 
individual,  with  hollow  cheeks,  deep,  cavernous 
eyes,  and  a  general  flavor  of  despondency  and 
gloom.  He  was  still  redolent  of  the  town,  and 
there  was  something  so  pretentious  and  aggres- 
sive about  his  stiff,  narrow-brimmed  Derby  hat, 
his  uncompromising  city  clothes,  and  his  dread- 
fully soiled,  but  highly  starched,  Piccadilly  col- 
lar, that  he  at  once  offended  the  frontier  tastes 
of  careless  ranchmen. 

The  teamster  beckoned  to  our  foreman,  and 
with  an  air  of  delivering  questionable  freight, 
became  mysterious  and  confidential. 

"  I've  brought  ye  out  suthin',"  said  he, 
"which  I  reckon  ye'll  hev  to  brand  ter  form 
any  opinion  onter.  'Tain't  no  use  guessin'. 
I've  been  figgerin*  on  him  ever  sence  I  picked 


A  WANDERING  MELIB&US.  205 

him  up,  an'  I  ain't  decided  yet  whether  he's 
a  cur'osity  or  a  drivelin'  idjit,  but  I  reckon 
it's  both.  Mebbe  ye  better  put  a  bell  onto  him 
an'  hobble  him  to  onct,  for  he's  thet  gone  here, 
(rubbing  his  forehead  dubiously)  thet  he's 
likely  to  break  loose  an'  give  ye  trouble.  Sez 
he's  goin'  inter  the  sheep  bizness.  I  wouldn't 
wonder  ef  he's  been  runnin'  *  foot-loose'  down 
at  Tyler,  an'  hez  got  mooney  over  some  gal  ez 
he's  been  keepin'  kempeny  with.  Enyway  he's 
give  me  an  earfull  thet  I  don't  reckon  to  git 
over  by  the  time  I  git  back.  Don't  let  him  git 
away  with  ye.  Adios  !  G'lang!  " 

And  with  a  portentous  wink,  diabolical  in  its 
implied  necessity  of  caution,  he  whipped  up  his 
jaded  mules — which  were  of  the  class  inclined 
to  lean  back  in  the  traces  and  think,  as  if 
debating  whether  a  permanent  halt  were  not 
advisable — and  disappeared  in  the  cloud  of 
dust  that  veiled  their  refractory  departure. 

Meanwhile  the  new  arrival  had  become  sud- 
denly invertebrate,  and  with  both  his  long  arms 
hitched  over  the  gate  of  the  ranch,  had  ap- 
parently hung  himself  up  in  a  state  of  mental 
and  physical  collapse.  He  was  gazing  gloomily 
after  the  vanishing  wagon.  The  suggestiveness 


ao6  A  WANDERING  MELIBCEUS. 

of  his  attitude  provoked  the  criticism  of  the 
camp. 

"  What's  gone  with  that  tramp  ?  "  inquired 
the  "  Oracle,"  who  was  thus  recognized  as  a 
reluctant  authority  upon  the  sheep-question, 
and  was  disposed  to  be  suspicious  of  all  new- 
comers. 

"Your  complexion — I  guess,"  replied  our 
medical  authority,  who  believed  the  Oracle  to 
be  suffering  from  torpidity  of  the  liver,  and 
was  piqued  at  his  refusal  to  submit  to  treat- 
ment. 

"  More  likely  he's  struck  some  of  those 
lightnin'  pills  you  were  mixin'  the  other  night," 
retorted  the  Oracle. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  medical  gentleman's 
acquaintance  with  the  healing  art  was  empirical 
rather  than  scientific.  Having  imported  from 
the  States  a  small  medicine  chest  and  an  ac- 
companying treatise,  his  diagnosis  of  a  disorder 
was  apt  to  be  faulty  and  imperfect.  Notably 
so  in  one  particular  instance.  Since  the  Oracle 
had  discovered  that  Menard  was  treating  him 
for  scurvy,  when  he  was  in  reality  suffering 
from  weak  eyes,  he  had  been  mildly  skeptical 
in  regard  to  the  latter's  knowledge.  His  com- 


A   WANDERING  MELlB&US.  207 

munication  of  this  trifling  error  to  his  com- 
panions had  well-nigh  relegated  the  practice 
of  medicine  at  the  ranch  to  the  position  of 
the  lost  arts. 

But  here  was  the  longed  for  opportunity. 
Menard  had  already  saddled  his  nose  with  the 
professional  spectacles,  and  was  deep  in  the 
perusal  of  attendant  symptoms. 

"  Looks  sorter  gone  in  the  epigastric  region  ;  " 
he  muttered  to  himself, — "  yaller  as  saffron; 
eyes  holler  and  fishy ;  shouldn't  wonder  if  his 
pulse  might  be  feeble,  and  his  tongue's  coated, 
I'll  bet  a  dollar  against  two  bits.  It's  a  sure 
case  !  Blue  mass — five  pills  at  bed-time,  and 
Turkey  rhubarb — first  thing  in  the  morning. 
Here,  Deacon,  bring  me  out  that  medicine- 
chest  !  " 

But  the  individual  addressed  was  busy  prose- 
cuting inquiries  in  regard  to  the  new-comer  on 
his  own  account. 

"What's  that  you've  got  hung  up  on  the 
gate?"  he  inquired  demurely  of  the  foreman. 
"Somethin'  new  you've  been  inventin'  for 
scarin'  coyotes?  Don't  believe  it'll  work; 
hasn't  movement  enough.  You  can't  expect  to 
make  any  headway  with  a  prairie-wolf,  Ridge, 


2o 8          A  WANDERING  MELIBCEUS. 

unless  you  show  some  signs  of  life.  I  sup- 
posed you  had  savy  enough  for  that." 

Ridge  Johnson  preserved  his  customary 
gravity. 

"Ye  better  go  a  little  light  on  that  feller, 
Deak!  "  he  responded — "  he's  a  tenderfoot  from 
Tyler!  come  out  with  some  gilt-edged  notions 
about  the  sheep  business.  I  want  a  herder  out 
in  "  lone  camp"  up  at  the  upper  pecan-motte. 
You  just  give  me  a  couple  of  weeks,  and  I'll 
get  the  flies  off  him." 

It  did  not  appear  what  the  above  expression 
implied,  nor  how  this  presumably  desirable  re- 
sult was  to  be  attained,  but  we  all  had  suffi- 
cient confidence  in  our  foreman  to  possess  our 
souls  in  patience. 

In  the  meantime,  the  medical  gentleman  had 
approached  the  dejected  figure  by  the  gate, 
and  was  apparently  about  to  commence  hos- 
tilities. 

"You're  feelin'  a  trifle  caved-in,"  he  said 
pleasantly,  but  with  a  kind  of  professional  de- 
liberation ;  "  your  mouth  tastes  like  a  swill- 
barrel,  and  your  appetite's  gone  back  on  ye. 
You  don't  sleep  reg'lar,  and  things  is  on  a  gen- 
eral strike.  You'd  sell  yourself  out  at  a  pretty 


A  WANDERING  MELIBCEUS.          209 

low  figure,  and  take  yer  pay  in  parseley  and 
onions ;  so  you  jest  naturally  reckoned  to  come 
out  here  and  take  a  brace.  Young  man,  you've 
got  a  large  and  level  head  !  " 

The  man  raised  his  lugubrious  face  to  Me- 
nard's,  mourned  over  him  with  his  dreary,  hope- 
less eyes,  and  said  in  a  sepulchral  voice, 

"  Yer  right,  pardner,  I  did." 

"  I  say,  you've  struck  it,"  replied  Menard, 
delightedly  ;  "  you've  run  up  against  jest  the 
right  party.  I'll  have  you  a  new  man  in  twenty- 
four  hours." 

The  man  looked  up  again  with  a  shade/of 
interest  in  his  face,  and  placing  his  hand  on  his 
chest,  asked  anxiously  : 

"  P'raps  ye'll  allow  to  hevin'  hed  a  sorter 
heaviness  here  thet  smokin'  didn't  reach  an* 
feedin'  wouldn't  satisfy?  A  kind  o*  feelin'  as 
ef  ye'd  lost  half  o'  yerself,  and  yer  inside  was 
goin'  inter  gin'ral  bankrupsy  ?  " 

"  Exactly  !  "  said  the  gratified  doctor — "  that's 
bile!" 

"  Wha — a — at  ?  "  said  the  man,  with  a  stare — 
''you  come  off,  pardner — it's  love !  " 

"  Love  ?  "  echoed  Menard,  in  amazement — 
"Young  man,  you  deceive  yourself.  It's  all 


210  A    WANDERING  MELIBCEUS. 

due  to  your  liver.  You  see,  it's  been  gettin' 
too  high-toned  for  the  rest  of  your  body. 
You've  been  livin'  pretty  free,  an'  your  diet  has 
jest  filled  it  up  with  conceit,  and  it  reckons  now 
to  lay  by,  and  see  how  you'll  make  it  go  with- 
out it.  What  you  want  to  do,  my  friend,  is  to 
submit  yourself  to  me.  I've  got  a  patent  pill 
in  there,  that'll  make  you  think — 

"  Ye  jest  oughter  get  to  see  her,"  broke  in 
the  man  vacantly,  entirely  ignoring  Menard's 
graphic  statement  of  the  alarming  condition  of 
his  domestic  economy — "  ye  jest  oughter  get  to 
see  her !  the  sweetest,  prettiest,  lovin'est  cree- 
tur  ye  ever  set  yer  two  eyes  on.  And  Lord 
love  ye  !  no  end  o'  style.  Why,  when  me  an' 
her  useter  walk  out  on  Main  Street  of  a  Sun- 
day arternoon,  the  way  fellers  useter  turn 
roun'  and  stare,  was  a  reg'lar  show.  And  high- 
toned  too,  you  bet !  She's  the  niece  of  an  ex- 
Guv'ner  of  the  State.  I  useter  say  to  her — 
'  Mirandy,'  sez  I,  '  thet  a  top-notch  and  A.  i. 
girl  like  you  should  get  gone  on  such  a  chap  ez 
me  is  what  gits  me ! '  An'  she  useter  say  to 
me — 'William  Henry' — she  allus  went  fur  my 
hull  name — thet's  Mirandy — '  it  was  yer  height 
an'  yer  gin'ral  shape  that  fust  got  away  with 


A   IV A  NDERINC  ME  LIB  (EUS.  2 1 1 

The  Doctor  turned  away  in  disgust. 

"Aren't  ye  gettin'  about  tired  of  importin' 
these  desperate  characters  and  professional 
dead-beats  from  the  southern  country?"  he 
inquired  of  the  foreman.  "The  last  man  you 
had  was  wanted  down  at  San  Antone  for  horse- 
stealin',  and  I  wouldn't  insure  this  new  invoice 
against  any  bad  spell  of  weather.  Just  look  at 
him  ventilatin'  himself  out  thar  on  thet  fence, 
and  invitin'  the  attention  of  every  enterprisin' 
buzzard.  The  first  good  '  Norther '  we  have  will 
freeze  him  up  so  stiff  we  won't  have  any  use 
for  him  except  to  stop  the  gap  in  a  brush- 
pen." 

But  the  conviction  was  so  general  that  the 
Doctor  was  right  for  once,  that  discussion  was 
out  of  the  question,  and  Menard  walked  deject- 
edly away  to  his  tent.  Being  a  punctiliously 
honorable  man,  it  did  not  occur  to  him  to  en- 
tertain the  camp  with  the  gentleman's  own 
theory  of  his  despondent  condition.  He  pre- 
ferred to  regard  it  in  the  light  of  a  privileged 
communication — probably  induced  by  dyspep- 
sia— and  as  such  to  be  held  inviolate  by  an  as- 
pirant in  his  learned  profession. 

Later  he  had  an  opportunity  of  noting  the 


MELIBCEUS. 

alarming  waste  of  tissue  presumably  due  to  this 
morbid  activity  of  the  affections. 

This  was  at  dinner,  when  in  common  with  us 
all,  he  lamented  the  frequency  with  which  our 
guest  passed  his  plate,  and  the  surprising  facil- 
ity with  which  the  four  staples  of  ranch-life — 
bread,  bacon,  beans,  and  stewed-apples — disap- 
peared to  fill  an  insatiable  vacuum.  Indeed, 
the  capacity  of  William  Henry  Smack,  as  it 
recurs  to  me  at  this  remote  epoch,  is  a  subject 
for  unhallowed  meditation.  That  appears  to 
have  been  the  infelicitous  title  with  which  his 
unfortunate  sponsors  decided  to  honor  the 
planet.  From  association  with  his  collapsed 
personality,  it  gave  you  a  disagreeable  impres- 
sion that  they  had  started  him  fairly  and  then 
run  him  into  something — his  appetite,  the  Ora- 
cle suggested.  It  was  even  thoughtfully  recom. 
mended  to  me  by  this  sardonic  joker, — who  sat 
next  to  William  Henry  at  table,  and  had  been 
amusing  himself  by  depositing  various  indigest- 
ible articles  in  the  neighborhood  of  his 
plate,  and  watching  him  successively  reject 
them — to  start  him  on  the  dried  apple  sack> 
and  then  kindly  suggest  hot  water  as  an  assist- 
ant to  digestion.  But  although  during  his 


A    WA  N BERING  ME  LIB  (EUS.  213 

short  sojourn  with  us,  Smack  frequently  re- 
paired to  me  for  advice,  I  do  not  recall  that  he 
ever  confessed  to  any  gastric,  disturbance; 

It  was  shortly  after  this  phenomenal  meal 
that  I  first  attracted  his  attention  and  invited 
his  confidence.  I  was  at  that  time  suffering  an 
unhallowed  martyrdom — a  martyrdom  that  re- 
curs upon  the  frontier  with  the  regularity  of  a 
repeating  cycle — attended  by  burned  fingers, 
outraged  patience  and  occasional  profanity.  I 
was  taking  my  turn  as  cook.  Over  an  abyss  of 
steaming  dish-water,  and  a  discouraging  waste 
of  disorganized  plates,  knives,  and  forks,  I  ex- 
tended to  him  the  hand  of  sympathy,  and  an 
unusually  clean  portion  of  flour-sack,  and  invited 
his  cooperation  in  the  agreeable  task  of  wiping 
dishes. 

He  had  been  prowling  aimlessly  about  the 
ranch  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  but  I  re- 
gret to  say,  with  a  seeking-whom-he-may-de- 
vour  expression  on  his  melancholy  visage  that 
was  apparently  visited  by  my  associates  with 
ill-favor  and  exclusion.  I  am  a  sympathetic  man. 
It  occurred  to  me  that  there  was  nothing 
particularly  prepossessing  about  such  an  intro- 
duction to  sheep-farming  as  Mr.  Smack  hacj 


2-14  A    WANDERING  ME  LIB  (BUS. 

received.  It  did  not  occur  to  me  that  there 
was  any  thing  sufficiently  prepossessing  about 
Mr.  Smack  to  warrant  any  other  state  of  facts. 
But  I  resolved  to  waive  this  on  the  score  of  hu- 
manity. I  little  knew  what  was  in  store  for  me. 

"  I  reckon,  now,  you  fellers  left  a  heap  o' 
society  back  there  in  the  States,"  he  began,  as 
he  unguardedly  accepted  a  red-hot  dish  in  his 
naked  hand. 

I  nodded  a  tacit  assent. 

"Any  gals?"  he  inquired,  shifting  the  dish 
rapidly  from  one  hand  to  the  other,  and 
alternately  snapping  his  fingers. 

In  the  midst  of  my  anxiety  for  the  future  of 
our  big  platter,  a  vision  of  dear  Leonora,  as 
she  appeared  when  bidding  me  adieu  at 
the  steamer's  wharf,  flashed  across  my  excited 
consciousness  and  faded  utterly,  as  the  dish 
caromed  on  the  table  suddenly,  glanced  to  the 
floor,  and  dispersed  in  far  reaching  and  magnifi- 
cent ruin. 

"  It's  the  only  one  on  the  ranch,"  I  remarked 
ungraciously,  as  he  gazed  hopelessly  upon  the 
glittering  fragments. 

"  Haven't  ye  got  any  strayteener?  "  he  in- 
quired absently. 


A    WA  NDERING  ME  LIB  (EUS.  215 

This  was  adding  insult  to  injury — suggesting 
the  possession  of  such  an  article  to  persons 
only  two  years  behind  the  Indians.  I  retaliated 
sharply. 

"  Why  Lord  love  ye !  "  he  said,  seeing  my 
evident  disgust, — "  ye  can  get  it  at  any  street 
corner  down  in  Tyler!  " 

"  My  Christian  friend,"  said  I,  in  a  blaze  of 
wrath, — "when  you  get  out  in  *  lone  camp' 
on  the  bald  prairie,  with  no  company  but  your 
dog,  a  six-by-nine  tent,  and  a  '  wet  Norther ' 
howling  down  from  Kansas  at  the  rate  of  sixty 
miles  an  hour,  it  will  perhaps  occur  to  you 
that  you  can't  go  to  the  corner  grocery  every 
time  you're  out  of  matches  and  soap." 

For  some  minutes  the  dish-washing  pro- 
gressed in  silence. 

At  length,  raising  his  head  slowly,  after  long 
and  apparently  earnest  cogitation, 

"Got  any  picters?"  he  inquired. 

"Pictures  of  what?"  I  asked  with  some 
acerbity  of  tone — suggestive  of  the  perishability 
of  crockery. 

"  Of  them  Eastern  gals  o'  yours,"  he  replied 
solemnly. 

Again,  a  vision  of  the  absent   Leonora,  with 


2 1 6  A    WANDERING  MELIB(E  US. 

her  faultless  features  and  fashionable  attire, 
rescued  from  oblivion  by  Eastern  photography, 
and  hidden  from  vulgar  scrutiny  in  the  re- 
motest recesses  of  my  trunk,  came  vividly 
before  me. 

I  modestly  acknowledged  the  possession  of  a 
few. 

"Light  or  dark-complected?"  said  my  cross- 
examiner. 

"  All  colors,"  I  retorted  with  shameless 
mendacity. 

"  I  want  to  know ! "  he  ejaculated  in  amaze- 
ment, and  with  an  apparent  willingness  to  be- 
lieve  that  there  might  be  types  of  beauty  of  a 
character  unknown  to  him;  —  "I  want  to 
know ! 

"  Wai !  Mirandy's  light,  an'  I  jes'  nat'rally 
get  my  notions  on  thet  subject  from  her.  She 
is  a  honey-cooler,  pardner,  and  don't  you  for- 
get it.  When  she  togs  out  and  takes  to 
promenadin'  you  better  reckon  she  paints  the 
hull  town  red.  Some  day,  when  you've  got  a 
plenty  of  time,  I'd  like  to  put  her  picter  up 
agin  the  best  gals  you  can  show,  and  see 
Mirandy  walk  away  with  the  outfit.  I'll  read 
ye  all  her  letters  too,  and  show  ye  what  a 


A    WA  ND BRING  ME  LIB  (E  US.  217 

writer  she  is.  Thar  !  Cast  yer  eye  over  thet 
yer  !  How  does  thet  strike  ye  ?  " 

And  he  threw  down  upon  the  table  a  tin-type 
of  the  siren  who  had  inspired  the  previous 
harangue. 

I  wish  the  reader  might  have  seen  Mirandy. 
Being  ignorant  myself  of  the  precise  amount 
of  feminine  charm  necessary  to  impart  a 
sanguinary  coloring  to  the  average  Texan  town, 
I  can  not,  of  course,  express  the  opinion  that 
the  young  lady  met  the  requirements.  But  if 
the  zeal  of  the  artist,  in  atoning  for  the  neutral 
tints  of  his  art  by  embellishing  her  natural 
graces  with  highly  rouged  cheeks,  a  green 
feather,  a  pink  bow,  and  the  crowning  triumph 
of  old-gold  gaiters,  were  insufficient  to  the  task, 
ah,  me !  I  fear  this  feeble  pen  had  best  not 
attempt  to  do  justice  to  this  social  paragon. 
Perhaps  I  may  better  convey  the  extravagance 
of  my  own  appreciation,  by  expressing  a  faint 
hope  that  the  photographer  escaped  with  his 
instrument  intact.  I  recollect  that  the  Oracle, 
before  whom  her  charms  were  paraded  on  a  later 
occasion,  remarked  to  me  in  confidence  that  he 
"  should  like  to  have  that  face  to  stamp  tubs 
of  butter."  But  the  Oracle  was  given  to  sar- 


2 1 8  A    IV A  ND  BRING  ME  LIB  (E  US. 

casm,  and  the  idea  of  butter  upon  a  frontier 
ranch  was  so  wildly  imaginative,  that  it  is  pos- 
sible some  latent  compliment  to  the  worshiped 
Mirandy  may  have  been  intended. 

It  was  early  spring  in  the  little  valley.  There 
were  signs  of  resurrection  in  the  levels  and  on 
the  divides.  The  sentinel  mesquites  timidly 
displayed  their  emerald  epaulettes,  and  gave 
glimpses  of  their  summer  uniform,  as  if  still 
reluctant  to  appear  on  dress-parade  ;  but  the 
bold  live  oaks  threw  off  their  faded  fatigue- 
jackets,  and  challenged  Nature  in  full  panoply. 
Already  a  delicate  housing  of  green  enamel 
decked  the  gaunt  flanks  of  the  distant  hills. 
The  sunny  slopes  were  glad  with  waving  color 
and  springing  grasses.  The  ravages  of  winter 
were  repaired  by  the  coy  visits  of  blue  lupins, 
poppy  worts  of  red  and  orange,  and  the  rarer 
glories  of  the  golden  helianthus.  Over  gay 
corollas  of  every  tint  and  shade,  the  red- 
bird  flashed,  the  scissor-tail  piloted  his  trail- 
ing plumes,  and  the  southern  nightingale — 
that  mad  ventriloquist  in  white  and  sable — 
mocked  and  wantoned.  In  the  mellow  light  of 
lengthening  days,  and  on  the  mighty  trunks  of 
majestic  pecans,  the  flaming  yellow-hammer 


A    WANDERING  MELIBCEUS.  219 

was  busy  with  his  undertaking,  and  the  burial 
of  the  dead  season  was  announced  in  the  dim 
aisles  by  the  repeated  knocking  of  his  dismal 
mallet. 

And  then  the  stern  spirit  of  the  dying  mon- 
arch entered  his  protest,  and  forbade  the 
ceremony.  The  ghost  of  his  troubled  greatness 
stirred  in  the  North,  struggling  back  in  an 
ominous  cloud,  that  suddenly  spread  and  hid 
the  frightened  heavens  with  gray.  The  icy 
gasps  of  the  indignant  Shade  came  quick  and 
fast,  blighting  the  early  promise  of  spring,  and 
sending  the  thermometer  down  thirty  degrees 
in  as  many  minutes.  And  with  them  came  a 
host  of  avenging  spirits — shrieking  winds, 
hurrying  rain,  and  blinding  sleet,  that  locked 
the  borders  of  the  shallow  creeks  ;  clapped  an 
icy  mail  on  the  northward  bark  of  trees  and 
bushes  ;  caught  and  crystallized  drooping  flower 
and  budding  spray,  and  drove  the  bleating  stock 
to  the  shelter  of  corrals,  and  their  shivering 
shepherds  to  the  protection  of  yellow  "slick- 
ers." 

The  branches  bowed  and  broke  with  their 
weight  of  fringing  icicles ;  bereavement  sad- 
dened the  wretched  birds ;  destruction  was  in 


220  A    WANDERING  MELIBCEUS. 

the  air ;  and  the  stark  landscape  lay  white  and 
ghastly  in  the  pallor  of  its  desolation. 

But  during  the  rigor  of  this  untimely  Norther, 
fate  was  yet  kind  to  William  Henry.  Either  a 
growing  compassion  for  Mirandy's  woful  knight, 
or  more  probably,  a  manifest  reluctance  to  in- 
trust a  flock  of  giddy  yearlings  to  the  tutelage 
of  so  painful  a  tenderfoot,  restrained  our  fore- 
man from  initiating  him  unkindly  into  the 
mysteries  of  his  new  vocation.  Throughout 
the  gloomy,  dismal  days  the  coziest  corner  of 
the  kitchen-stove  was  occupied  by  this  rare  and 
delicate  exotic  of  the  interior. 

Of  course  this  tendency  to  take  root,  and 
blossom  in  perpetual  reminiscence  of  Mirandy, 
was  met  with  unkindly  criticism,  and  even  on 
some  occasions  with  impolite  objurgation.  It 
was  generally  believed  that  he  had  overheard 
the  Doctor's  prediction  of  his  possible  utility 
at  this  disagreeable  season,  and  that  he  resolved 
to  forestall  him  by  inhabiting  localities  of 
perpetual  thaw. 

I  am  afraid  that  even  my  sympathetic  nature 
grew  weary  pf  Mr.  Smack.  After  I  had  learned 
that  he  was  a  tanner  by  trade,  and  had  gotten 
over  my  surprise  that  devotion  to  his  profession 


A    WA  NDERING  MELIBCE  US.  2  2 1 

had  left  him  so  unaccountably  with  this  "  per- 
ennial virginity  of  the  affections,"  a  continuous 
rehearsal  of  the  various  phenomena  which  at- 
tended the  appearance  of  the  absent  goddess 
'  upon  the  public  streets  of  Tyler  lost  somehow 
its  power  of  diversion.  Perhaps  my  feelings 
may  have  been  influenced  by  observing  that 
any  assistance  in  my  labors  from  William 
Henry  was  invariably  attended  by  culinary  dis- 
aster, or  mortality  in  the  cupboard,  and  if  I  re- 
frained from  any  open  allusion  to  his  custom- 
ary seat,  I  fear  that  a  v/armer  locality  than  the 
kitchen-stove  was  the  direct  wish  of  my  inner 
consciousness. 

But  it  was  gratifying  to  witness  the  devices 
to  which  my  associates  would  resort  to  decoy 
him  from  his  corner  and  to  destroy  his  statuesque 
repose.  The  Doctor  had  an  elaborate  inven- 
tion for  catching  quail  which  consisted  of  an 
old  salt-sack  and  a  tallow  candle,  and,  calling 
him  one  day  into  his  tent,  he  promised  that  if 
on  the  first  mild  night,  William  Henry  would 
engage  to  hold  this  lighted  candle  in  front  of 
the  aperture  of  the  sack,  surprising  results  might 
be  attained  that  would  redound  to  an  im- 
provement of  the  larder — the  monotony  of 


222          A  WANDER i XG  MELIB&US. 

which  Mr.  Smack  had  already  alluded  to,  but 
with  no  appreciative  diminution  of  consump- 
tive capacity.  Then  the  Oracle,  who  was  an 
authority  on  sheep  matters,  explained  very 
minutely  the  uses  of  the  crook,  telling  this 
guileless  innocent  that  in  catching  a  sheep  the 
curving  portion  must  be  applied  to  the  lower 
jaw,  and  by  a  dexterous  movement  of  the  op- 
erator the  animal  laid  upon  his  back ;  but  that 
when  bare-handed,  the  ears  were  the  coveted 
objects  of  attack. 

And  I  have  an  amusing  recollection  of  how 
the  Deacon,  on  one  occasion,  exhibited,  for  his 
absorbed  inspection,  an  extensive  assortment  of 
variety  actresses,  informing  him  that  they  were 
the  portraits  of  young  ladies  who,  in  better 
days,  had  succumbed  to  his  delusive  arts,  and 
being  base  enough  to  assert  afterwards  that  the 
munificent  graces  of  a  certain  song  and  dance 
artiste  had  for  the  time  being  staggered  his 
faith  in  the  ideal  charms  of  Mirandy. 

I  think,  however,  I  am  myself  responsible  for 
first  opening  his  eyes  to  the  austerities  of  life 
upon  the  frontier.  It  had  been  decided  that  I 
should  have  his  companionship  during  those 
hours  when  a  sensitive  man  is  presumably  most 


A   WANDERING  MELIB&US.  223 

fastidious  in  matters  of  companionship.  The 
shelter,  hitherto  sacred  to  Morpheus  and  my- 
self, was  a  small  tent,  pitched  upon  a  lonely 
hillside,  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  primitive 
brush-pen,  where  the  flock,  that  in  future  was  to 
engage  the  attention  of  William  Henry,  was 
also  accustomed  to  pass  the  night. 

On  the  evening  of  the  Norther's  advent,  I 
lighted  a  little  dark  lantern  that  I  sometimes 
carried,  and  prepared  to  resort  to  my  quarters. 
Being  in  no  very  amiable  mood  at  the  prospect 
before  me,  I  resolved  to  try  the  nerves  of  my 
prospective  bed-fellow,  and  drawing  the  slide  of 
my  lantern  and  slipping  it  under  my  long 
"  slicker,"  I  called  him  from  the  seclusion  of  the 
stove,  and  strode  out  into  the  night. 

It  was  pitch  dark — not  even  the  caverns  of 
Erebus  can  hope  to  rival  the  blackness  of  a 
Norther's  night.  It  is  immoral  in  its  quality, 
and  in  its  effect  upon  the  rhetoric  of  the  way- 
farer. And  through  the  gloom,  the  fiery  darts 
of  the  sleet  splinter  and  sting,  and  the  mad 
blasts  howl  with  the  fury  of  fiends. 

Such  being  the  case,  I  must  confess  it  was 
with  malice  aforethought  that,  as  we  fared  on 
together,  I  expressed  a  cheerful  hope  that  he 


224  A   WANDERING  MELTB&VS. 

would  not  fall  into  the  well,  which  with  that 
sublime  confidence  in  animate  and  inanimate 
nature  peculiar  to  Texas,  is  generally  left  guilt- 
less of  environment.  There  was  no  reply  to 
this,  but  I  am  quite  sure  I  detected  a  slight 
gasp  at  the  prospect  of  such  a  possibility. 

Shortly  after,  Mirandy's  champion  going 
astray  in  the  gloom,  and  missing  the  echo  of 
my  accompanying  step,  became  so  unpleasantly 
vocal,  that  I  was  forced  to  display  my  light  to 
silence  him.  Joining  forces  again,  we  pro- 
ceeded in  company  until  we  reached  the  tent. 

Being  desirous  of  exhibiting  a  unique  and 
beautiful  effect,  I  unmasked  my  lantern  in  the 
direction  of  the  pen,  and  invited  his  attention. 
The  far  reaching  rays  of  light  were  reflected 
from  the  eye-balls  of  the  sheep,  glancing  in 
every  direction  over  a  gleaming  pavement  of 
orbs,  and  flashing  upon  us  in  globes  of  fire. 
And  here  I  know  not  what  panic  seized  Mr. 
Smack,  but  with  a  wild  cry  of  alarm,  he  dashed 
the  lantern  from  my  hand  and  ran  off  into  the 
night,  shouting  and  screaming  at  the  top  of  his 
lungs.  The  immediate  result  of  which  was  a 
startling  irruption  of  the  occupants  of  the 
ranch,  armed  with  "six-shooters,"  and  bearing 


A    WANDERING  MELIB(EUS.  22$ 

lantern  and  torch,  in  anticipation  of  a  violent 
attack  on  the  part  of  coyotes. 

For  three  days  the  pitiless  javelins  of  the 
sleet  beleaguered  hill  and  hollow  with  storm 
and  assault.  For  three  days  the  incautious 
heads  of  early  risers,  striking  against  the  slop- 
ing roof-trees  of  their  tents,  were  startled  by 
the  crepitant  recoil,  and  the  hurrying  crash  of 
the  hurtling  avalanche  which  followed.  For 
three  days  the  tortured  Winter  writhed  and 
raved  in  its  delirium,  moaning  through  the 
hollow  valleys,  and  tossing  in  impotent  fury  its 
cramped  and  stiffened  limbs.  Then  came  the 
stillness  of  death.  The  sun  looked  through 
the  rifted  clouds  and  saw  the  wasted  form  of 
the  fallen  monarch  lying  in  its  last  sleep. 
Every  bush  and  shrub  and  tree  was  bowed  to 
the  earth  as  with  the  weight  of  a  mighty  grief. 
And  then  from  out  the  heart  of  the  benign 
Mother,  a  deep  emotional  whisper  reassured 
her  children  ;  their  cares  dissolved  and  slipped 
away,  and  spring  was  welcomed  anew,  but 
between  smiles  and  tears. 

Mr.  Smack  was  no  sharer  in  the  general 
enthusiasm  at  the  ranch.  A  lengthy  consulta- 
tion with  our  foreman,  relative  to  the  locality 


2<z6  A    WANDERING  ME  LI  BOLUS. 

of  his  future  labors,  seemed  to  have  accented 
his  habitual  melancholy.  It  is  possible  that 
the  prospect  of  a  month's  sheep  herding,  in  the 
solitude  of  his  own  society,  may  have  uncon- 
sciously aggravated  the  remoteness  of  Mirandy. 
After  a  patient  and  long-suffering  perusal  of 
the  correspondence  of  that  beloved  maiden,  I 
had  become  skeptical  in  regard  to  her  high 
social  position.  There  was  an  originality  in 
orthography,  and  an  absence  of  punctuation 
about  her  efforts,  which  I  had  not  hitherto 
detected  in  the  nieces  of  senators  and  govern- 
ors. Possibly  the  epistolary  style  of  the  first 
families  may  have  deteriorated. 

In  a  moment  of  irritation  over  her  reiterated 
fascinations  and  accomplishments,  I  had  mali- 
ciously inquired  how  he  came  to  deprive  him- 
self of  such  excellence.  His  reply,  I  fear, 
embodies  the  experience  of  many  a  gilded 
youth,  and  has  the  glamour  of  a  too  prevalent 
popular  fallacy.  It  seems  that  Mirandy's 
refined  taste  in  jewelry  and  surprising  sacchar- 
ine longings  absorbed  his  weekly  salary,  and 
he  had  resorted  to  a  sheep-camp  for  the 
accumulation  of  a  fortune  wherewith  to  embark 
upon  the  matrimonial  sea.  I  could  not  repress 


A    WANDERING  MELIBCEUS.  227 

a  sigh  as  I  realized  how  enormous  would  be  his 
harvest  of  blighted  hopes. 

0  city  clerks !    plying    a    ready   and    facile 
quill,  beware  how  you  entertain  the  chimera  of 
sudden  wealth  in  the  far  West !     Unless  your 
pockets    are    heavy  with    the    shekels  of  past 
gains,  and   you  have   the    requisite   cash    and 
experience  with  which  to  invest — just  as   you 
may  at  home,  if  haply  ye  be  so  circumstanced 
— seek  not  to  penetrate  this  arcana  of  hardship 
and  disappointment.     Remember  that  over  a 
dreary  waste  of  fried  bacon  and  corn-dodger, 
and  amid  grievous  solitude,  will  this  experience 
come  to  you,  and  that  the  prospect   of  becom- 
ing a  capitalist,  upon  twenty  dollars  a  month, 
is  remote  even  upon  the  frontier. 

1  did   not  witness  the  departure  of  William 
Henry  for  the   upper   pecan-motte,  but   I   am 
informed  that  he  pulled  himself  together,  and 
with  the  air  of  an  heroic  general  rallying  panic- 
stricken  troops,  set  out   in   pursuit  of  his  flying 
cohorts.     I  believe  the  Deacon  said  something 
about  a  rapid    degeneration    of    the   flock   to 
nothing  but  hides  and  hoofs,  if  he  continued  to 
herd  upon  the  full  gallop,  but  the  Deacon  had 
a  sick  headache  that  day,  and  at  such  times  his 
judgment  was  jaundiced. 


228  A    WANDERIKG  MEL1B&.US. 

The  following  morning,  while  making  my 
customary  early  pilgrimage  from  my  sleeping 
apartment  to  the  kitchen,  I  noticed  a  peculiar 
demonstration  upon  the  western  horizon.  It 
was  unlike  any  thing  in  movement  I  had  yet 
witnessed.  There  were  certain  suggestions  of 
the  windmill  about  it,  but  I  knew  that  we  had 
perfected  no  such  method  of  irrigation.  There 
seemed  to  come  to  my  ears  from  the  depths  of 
this  mystery  a  feeble  halloo.  With  much 
straining  of  my  eyes,  I  at  last  perceived  that  it 
was  William  Henry,  swinging  his  boots  by  their 
straps  like  a  pair  of  erratic  Indian  clubs.  He 
had  evolved  this  unique  signal  as  a  species  of 
decoy  for  me.  I  repaired  to  the  spot. 

But  if  his  signal  was  unique,  what  shall  I  say 
of  his  appearance  ?  Certainly  no  damsel  but 
fair  Bettina,  or  that  "  maiden  all  forlorn"  who 
espoused  the  modern  tramp  of  the  nursery 
legend,  would  have  ever  dreamed  of  accepting 
his  escort. 

He  was  in  his  stocking  feet ;  his  smart  city 
suit  was  in  ribbons  ;  I  hesitate  to  record  how 
many  cruel  stabs  that  immaculate  Derby  had 
sustained  from  the  thorns  of  the  mesquite.  It 
was  at  once  ludicrous  and  pitiful  to  hear  him 


A    WANDERING  MELIBCEUS.  229 

describe,  how,  while  following  his  flock  in  full 
cry,  he  had  stumbled  in  a  marmot  burrow,  and 
sat  down  upon  an  aggressive  cactus. 

"  It's  no  use  !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  I  regarded 
him  in  breathless  awe;  "I'm  goin'  to  quit! 
They've  been  junein'  me  sence  yesterday 
mornin',  all  over  the  bald  prairie,  an'  last  night  I 
didn't  get  a  wink  o'  sleep  listenin'  to  the 
coyotes.  Some  wild  cows  got  into  my  tent 
yesterday,  eat  up  my  grub,  and  made  a  stampin' 
ground  of  the  hull  bizness.  I've  been  as  hun- 
gry as  a  prairie  dog,  and  as  lonely  as  a  turtle 
on  a  log,  all  night." 

"  Couldn't  you  occupy  your  mind  in  thinking 
of  that  girl  of  yours?"  I  inquired  with  mali- 
cious irony. 

" That's  jest  it!"  he  shrieked,  with  a  des- 
pondent wave  of  the  boots — "  I've  been  fig- 
gerin'  how  on  earth  I'm  ever  goin'  to  get  a  let- 
ter from  her  'way  out  here,  an'  mebbe,  all  the 
while,  some  one  o'  them  julery  sharps  is  cut- 
tin'  me  out.  I  reckon  I'll  go  hum.  Ye  needn't 
pay  me  nothin'.  It's  no  use !  I  tell  ye,  Fin 
goin  to  quit  /  " 

And  out  of  respect  for  his  accident,  he  de- 
scended slowly  upon  his  knees,  and  attempted 


230  A    WANDERING  MELIBCFUS. 

the  perilous  feat  of  drawing  on  his  boots  while 
in  that  position. 

I  expostulated  with  him  for  a  long  time,  urg- 
ing that  our  foreman  had  gone  to  town,  and 
that  it  was  impossible  to  pen  the  sheep  and  let 
them  starve  during  the  day.  At  last  upon  my 
promising  that,  if  he  would  continue  to  herd 
until  Johnson's  return,  I  would  come  up  to 
camp  and  spend  the  night  with  him,  he  reluct- 
antly consented.  I  returned  to  the  ranch. 

It  was  a  cool,  pleasant  evening,  when  I 
started  with  "  Top  " — a  favorite  sheep-dog — to 
fulfill  my  promise.  The  Milky  Way  hung  high 
in  heaven,  and  the  air  was  full  of  the  shrill 
chirp  of  crickets,  and  the  cry  of  cicadae.  The 
fragrant  odors  of  the  season  were  abroad  again, 
and  came  sweetly  from  the  damp  wings  of 
night.  But  I  needed  all  the  consolations  of  the 
time.  A  series  of  misfortunes,  beginning  with 
burnt  beans,  and  culminating  in  the  discovery 
of  Dr.  Menard,  lost  in  the  perusal  of  his  medi- 
cal treatise,  and  seated  absently  upon  a  rising 
batch  of  bread  which  I  had  laboriously  pre- 
pared after  a  new  receipt,  had  wrought  their 
accepted  havoc  upon  my  outraged  feelings. 

As  I   drew  near  the  lone  camp,  the  moon 


A    WANDERING  MELIBCEUS.  231 

lifted  a  pale  crescent  above  the  tops  of  the 
great  pecans,  illuminating  with  silver  the  gaunt 
outlines  of  a  large  cow-pen  that  stretched 
beneath  them.  Startled  by  my  approach,  the 
sheep  stampeded  into  the  shadows  of  their 
roomy  barrier,  and  a  frightened  bevy  of  quail 
whirred  across  my  path.  The  white  tent 
gleamed  through  the  dim  spaces  of  the  trees, 
like  an  odd  transparency. 

"  I  made  up  my  mind  ye  was  goin'  back  on 
me !  "  remarked  William  Henry  grimly,  as  I 
entered. 

"  How  are  you  ?  "  I  inquired  vaguely,  throw- 
ing myself  into  a  corner  and  pillowing  my  head 
upon  a  sack  of  coffee. 

"  Most  dead,"  he  replied  cheerfully. 

"  How  did  your  sheep  herd  to-day  ?  " 

"  About  as  near  like  a  lot  of  crazy  mules  as 
they  could — convenient." 

"Any  trouble  from  wolves?" 

"  I  reckon  they'll  be  on  hand,  as  soon  as  I 
make  for  bed." 

"  Hungry?  "  said  I,  exhibiting  a  large  basket. 

"  Jest  starvin',"  he  replied. 

"  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you,  William  ?  "  said  I, 
as  he  attacked  the  provender  with  both  hands, 


232  A    WANDERING  MELIBCEUS. 

— "  that  in  business  as  in  love  there  is  no  suc- 
cess with  a  faint  heart?" 

"  How  far  is  it  from  here  to  Paint  Rock  ?  "  he 
inquired,  evading  the  issue. 

"Thirty-five  miles." 

"  Which  way?  " 

"  Due  west,"  I  said,  giving  him  the  line. 

"And  San  Saba?" 

"  About  sixty — off  here  ! 

"  I  hope,  however,"  said  I,  "  that  you  are 
not  contemplating  the  journey  on  foot,  for  the 
chances  are,  that  with  your  inexperience  of  the 
country,  you  would  lose  your  way  and  perish 
miserably." 

He  did  not  reply,  but  lay  knocking  his  heels 
together  and  caressing  "  Top."  Subsequently, 
when  he  artfully  intruded  a  thread-bare  subject 
by  insinuating  a  love-letter  that  I  already  knew 
by  heart,  I  wrapped  myself  in  my  blanket  and 
went  calmly  to  sleep. 

We  awoke  betimes  the  next  morning,  and 
after  a  primitive  repast,  released  the  imprisoned 
sheep.  As  I  stood  looking  at  them  graz- 
ing away  in  beautiful  company-front,  and  with 
the  far-reachir.g  wings  of  their  slowly  moving 
column  stretching  over  the  flowering  prairie  in 


A    WANDERING  MELIBCEUS.  233 

admirable  order,  I  was  impressed  that  they 
were  the  best  herding  yearlings  I  had  ever 
seen. 

"  Do  you  mind  lending  me  this  dog?"  said 
William  Henry,  "they  run  so,  you  know." 

More  out  of  compassion  for  his  loneliness 
than  any  other  reason,  I  consented.  We  parted 
company  on  the  next  divide.  I  never  saw  him 
again. 

For  when  our  foreman  returned  at  noon  and 
visited  the  lone  camp,  he  found  the  sheep  bleat- 
ing in  the  pen  ;  the  collapsed  tent  flying  in  the 
wind  ;  the  sticky  equipment  of  that  early  break- 
fast broiling  in  the  sun.  But  all  traces  of  food, 
or  dog,  or  William  Henry,  were  irrevocably 


I  think  of  him  tenderly  yet.  Time  has  con- 
soled me  for  the  loss  of  my  dog,  and  a  dearth 
of  correspondence  on  the  part  of  Leonora  has 
made  me  more  charitable  in  my  estimate  of  his 
trials.  There  are  times,  when,  over  a  tranquil 
pipe,  and  under  the  witchery  of  moonlight,  the 
memory  of  his  soulful  devotion  affects  me  with 
the  pathos  of  knight-errantry.  And  if,  perchance, 
within  some  wooded  copse  or  thorny  chaparral, 
the  bleaching  bones  of  this  misguided  and  warir 


234  A    WANDERING  MELIBCEUS. 

dering  Meliboeus  of  the  South  nave  found  no 
mourners  save  the  hooting  owl  and  gaunt  coy- 
ote, I  have,  at  least,  the  consciousness  of  having 
warned  him,  and  his  untimely  fate  is  but  the 
sad  sequel  of  his  own  temerity. 

But  I  do  not  like  to  think  of  him  thus.  I 
prefer  rather  to  reflect  upon  the  ubiquity  of 
wandering  teamsters  and  their  attendant  mules. 
And  oft,  before  my  fancy,  rises  a  picture  of  a 
respectable  tanner,  with  children  playing  around 
his  knees,  and  a  father's  pride  illuminating  his 
hollow  eyes,  and  by  his  side  a  grave  and  quiet 
matron,  in  whose  subdued  appearance  you 
might  seek  in  vain,  for  traces  of  the  saccharine 
tastes  and  jewel-loving  extravagance  of  the  be- 
loved Mirandy. 


A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN. 


rPHE  sun  was  setting  on  the  Maverick  valley. 
1  As  I  walked  to  the  door  of  the  ranch,  a  few 
Parthian  arrows  from  his  declining  bow 
splintered  themselves  among  the  dusky  tops  of 
the  live  oaks.  There  was  a  faint  pink  glow  all 
around  the  horizon  that  on  its  western  threshold 
lingered  in  feathery  flecks  of  crimson  and  gold. 
The  brief  twilight  of  Texan  latitudes  was  al- 
ready hastening  through  the  thin  files  of  mes- 
quite  that  stood  like  straggling  pickets  before 
the  windows  of  the  little  cabin.  A  silence  was 
falling  over  the  hushed  landscape  —  "vast, 
measureless,  complete." 

Certainly  I  had  some  excuse  for  the  sudden 
loneliness  that  fell  upon  me.  It  was  the  first 
time  in  my  border  life  that  I  had  been  left  upon 
the  trackless  prairie,  solitary  and  alone.  The 
annual  shearing  was  just  over.  But  an  hour 


236  A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN. 

before  our  entire  "  outfit"  had  departed  for  a 
general  merry-making  at  a  distant  frontier  town. 
As  I  had  volunteered  in  accepting  the  position 
of  cook  during  the  past  three  weeks,  and  for 
that  period  had  labored  to  fill  a  recurrent  and 
appalling  vacuum  in  eighteen  able-bodied  men, 
my  efforts  had  naturally  been  somewhat  debili- 
tating. Amid  that  exuberance  of  society  in 
which  solitude  seems  a  myth,  I  had  declined 
conviviality  and  elected  repose.  I  was  left 
behind  as  custodian  of  the  ranch. 

But  as  I  stepped  from  the  door  for  the  pur- 
pose of  penning  the  buck-herd,  I  was  beginning 
to  regret  my  choice.  I  realized  that  I— a 
"  tenderfoot  " — with  only  a  three  months'  resi- 
dence in  the  state — was  alone  upon  an  area  of 
fifty  thousand  acres  without  let  or  limit;  that 
my  nearest  neighbor  was  five  miles  away,  over 
a  chartless,  emerald  sea,  to  be  traversed  only  by 
aid  of  that  shifting  guide,  the  sun;  that  my 
only  companions  in  this  primitive  wilderness 
were  thirty-five  Merino  bucks  of  contemplative 
and  exclusive  tendencies  ;  a  shepherd-dog  which 
was  immaturely  effusive  and  slobberingly  de- 
monstrative upon  being  addressed  as  "Miss 
Flo"  ;  and  an  ebony  cat  that  inflicted  a  mangy 


A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN.  Ztf 

and  somewhat  dissipated  exterior  under  the 
sobriquet  of "  Miss  Emma."  A  dearth  of  the  con- 
solations of  female  society  apparently  inspires 
the  native  Texan  to  a  courteous  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  sex  of  domestic  pets. 

When,  therefore,  I  had  driven  the  horned 
contingent  of  my  associates  into  their  rude 
brush-pen,  and  had  fastened  the  hurdle-gate,  I 
stood  leaning  against  it  and  seriously  regarding 
them.  It  did  not  add  to  the  cheerfulness  of 
my  surroundings  to  notice  that  they  bore  an 
unmistakable  resemblance  to  a  company  of 
hook-nosed  Jews;  that  their  knees  were  sprung 
with  the  rheumatism  of  age;  that  their  eyes 
were  rheumy  and  inflamed  ;  and  that  they  ap- 
peared to  be  unusually  afflicted  that  evening 
with  snuffles  and  chronic  catarrh.  Besides, 
they  were  so  fresh  from  the  shears,  that  the  air 
of  venerable  wisdom  which  their  faces  arro- 
gated, seemed  to  be  caricatured  by  the  rest  of 
their  bodies.  They  were  so  repulsive  in 
appearance,  that  I  at  once  dubbed  the  most 
disreputable  specimen,  "  Fagin," — a  baptismal 
inspiration  that  eventually  achieved  popularity. 
Then,  with  that  hypocrisy  which  characterizes 
man  when  lonely,  I  began  to.  patronize  my 


238  A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN. 

much  abused  dog  and  even  the  feline  antique  ; 
for  both  had  accompanied  me  in  my  pastoral 
duties.  After  which  I  walked  back  to  the 
ranch.  Here  I  encountered  another  dubious 
object  that  in  my  then  dejected  condition  struck 
me  as  almost  ominous.  This  was  a  pet  lizard 
which,  for  the  past  month,  had  inhabited  the 
neighboring  kitchen — a  long,  low  structure  with 
a  canvas  roof — and  which  was  now  perched 
upon  the  door-step.  But  "  Tommy"  was  on 
the  present  occasion  very  much  out  of  luck. 
He  was  not  under  the  most  favorable  circum- 
stances a  prepossessing  object.  He  was  brick- 
red,  covered  with  polka-dots  of  black,  and  had 
a  diabolical  leer  about  the  eye.  "  Tommy," 
however,  had  now  unaccountably  lost  his  tail, 
and  was  obviously  so  humiliated  and  dispirited, 
that  he  unconsciously  infected  and  aggra-vated 
my  own  melancholy. 

I  opened  the  door  of  the  kitchen  into  which 
he  immediately  dived  and  hid  his  diminished 
lizardship  from  view.  Entering  the  little  cabin, 
and  acting  from  a  feeling  of  generous  hospitality 
that  must  have  struck  both  as  phenomenal,  I 
invited  the  companionship  of  "  Miss  Flo"  and 
"  Miss  Emma."  Then  I  lighted  the  lamp,  and 


A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN.  23$ 

drawing  the  solitary  chair  of  the  apartment  to 
a  convenient  distance,  picked  up  a  volume  of 
Macaulay's  Essays  (for  we  were  fortunately 
blessed  with  an  abundance  of  literature),  and 
disposed  myself  to  read.  I  remember  thinking, 
as  I  settled  myself  into  a  comfortable  position, 
that  I  would  make  amends  for  my  enforced 
isolation  by  profound  literary  culture,  and 
rather  pluming  myself  upon  how  much  benefit 
I  should  derive  from  this  prairie  course  of 
study.  But  I  certainly  made  little  progress 
that  evening.  I  found  myself  singularly  un- 
able to  concentrate  my  attention.  I  was 
oppressed  by  an  indefinable  feeling  of  dread 
that  at  last  culminated  in  a  nervous  sensation 
of  being  observed.  I  threw  aside  my  book  in 
disgust  and  endeavored  to  account  for  it. 

It  was  now  pitch  dark  outside.  I  was  sitting 
at  a  little  desk  that,  from  the  poverty  of  our 
household  furniture,  was  obliged  to  perform 
manifold  duties.  To-night  it  was  somewhat 
overburdened  with  frontier  bric-a-brac,  conspic- 
uous among  which  was  a  large  Colt's  revolver 
and  cartridge-belt.  I  perceived  that,  as  I  sat,  I 
was  directly  in  line  with  the  two  windows  of 
the  ranch — one  on  the  south,  the  other  on  the 


240  A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN. 

north  side  of  the  house.  Partly  from  a  feeling 
of  caution  which  one  acquires  on  the  frontier, 
and  partly  from  this  nervousness  I  could  not 
explain,  I  shifted  my  chair  around  against  the 
wall  until  I  faced  the  southern  window.  In 
effecting  this  change  of  position,  I  succeeded 
in  treading  on  Miss  Emma,  and  discommoding 
Miss  Flo,  who,  after  looking  at  me  in  a  grieved 
fashion,  accommodated  herself  in  another 
quarter  with  the  usual  canine  philosophy  and 
circumlocution. 

As  I  tilted  my  chair  against  the  door  and  as- 
sumed an  aggressive  attitude  towards  the  op- 
posite window,  I  noticed  a  few  drops  of  water 
upon  the  panes,  and  was  then  for  the  first  time 
aware  that  it  was  raining.  A  moment  after  a 
vivid  flash  of  lightning  illuminated  the  darkness 
without,  opening  up  phosphorescent  vistas  in 
the  mesquites  with  startling  suddenness.  Brief 
as  was  the  interval  for  observation,  it  was  suffi- 
cienf  to  confirm  my  suspicions.  Amid  the  loud 
reverberations  of  the  thunder-clap  that  followed, 
I  was  confident  that  I  had  seen  a  man  lurking 
in  the  scanty  shrubbery  outside. 

I  cannot  describe  how  much  I  was  discon- 
certed by  this  discovery.  I  was  alone  in  a  wild  and 


A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN.  241 

lawless  country,  where  a  man  might  be  attacked 
and  murdered  without  a  chance  of  succor.  I 
was  in  a  lighted  room  whose  unshuttered  win- 
dows stared  into  the  black  night  so  glaringly, 
that  practically  I  was  as  defenseless  to  an 
enemy  hid  in  the  darkness  without,  as  if  shut  in 
a  glass  case.  As  this  thought  leaped  to  my 
brain,  I  suddenly  extinguished  the  light  and 
groped  for  the  revolver  and  cartridge-belt,  re- 
solving to  make  as  determined  a  stand  as  possi- 
ble. Securing  both,  I  buckled  on  the  belt  and 
backed  against  the  door,  in  order  to  resist  any 
forcible  entrance.  In  this  defiant  attitude  I 
waited,  the  storm  continuing  to  rage  with- 
out. 

A  Texan  thunderstorm  is  at  all  times  awe- 
inspiring.  I  do  not  think  I  ever  lived  a  more 
thrilling  existence  than  during  the  brief  inter- 
val I  crouched  in  the  darkness  of  that  little 
cabin,  which  was  incessantly  lighted  by  the  blue 
flashes  that  seemed  to  leap  from  window  to 
window,  and  which  shook  tremulously  under 
the  crash  of  the  shattering  reports  that  fol- 
lowed one  another  in  quick  succession.  My 
excitement  reached  its  height,  when,  during 
one  of  these  sudden  illuminations,  I  perceived 


242  A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN. 

pressed  against  the  pane  and  peering  into  the 
room,  a  wild,  red  face,  with  long,  gray  beard 
and  disheveled  hair  streaming  in  the  wind. 
The  apparition,  seen  by  the  lurid  light,  was  so 
malevolent,  that  I  think  I  was  only  prevented 
from  firing  at  it  by  the  brief  interval  of  the 
flash.  When  the  lightning  gleamed  again,  the 
face  was  gone,  and  I  was  certain  now  I  could 
hear  some  one  groping  his  way  along  the  side 
of  the  house,  evidently  supporting  himself  in 
that  way  against  the  charging  gusts  of  wind 
and  sharp  fusillade  of  the  driving  rain.  At  the 
same  time  Miss  Flo  became  uneasy,  and,  at 
last,  barked  loudly. 

"  Hulloa,  here  !  "  shouted  a  gruff  voice. 

I  hastily  relighted  the  lamp,  and  opened  the 
door  in  some  trepidation. 

There  entered  a  tall  figure,  so  gratuitously 
limp  and  bedraggled  with  rain  as  to  be  almost 
grotesque  ;  so  worn  with  travel,  and  with  such 
an  utter  weariness  of  life  in  the  eyes,  as  to  be 
really  pathetic.  The  clothes  that  he  wore 
were  torn  and  abraded,  exposing  a  sub-stratum 
of  red  flannel  at  the  knees,  which,  gave  him  a 
ludicrous  suggestion  of  having  worn  himself 
down  to  the  quick  from  the  excess  of  his  devo- 


A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN.  243 

tions.  His  shrunken  pantaloons  encroached 
upon  the  calves  of  his  legs,  and,  as  he  was  with- 
out stockings,  this  lack  of  intimacy  with  his 
hob-nailed  shoes  exposed  a  pair  of  very  gaunt 
and  reluctant  ankles.  His  beard  and  hair  were 
long,  straggling,  and  unkempt,  and  were  sur- 
mounted by  an  extravagant  slouch  hat  of  the 
frontier  pattern.  Running  over  the  scant  de- 
tails of  my  former  apparition,  I  mentally  classi- 
fied him  at  once  as  a  "  border  tramp."  But  I 
was  lonely  that  evening  and  disposed  to  be 
polite.  I  therefore  offered  him  the  only  chair 
in  the  room,  stretched  myself  upon  the  low  bed, 
and  calmly  awaited  developments. 

"  Good  evening,"  he  said,  in  a  rather  husky 
but  pleasant  voice,  as  he  lapsed  into  the  chair. 
Then  he  took  off  his  broad  hat  with  a  swirl  of 
spattering  rain-drops,  wiped  his  forehead  with  a 
red  bandana  handkerchief,  ruminated  a  few 
minutes,  replaced  his  hat,  and  finally  producing 
a  pipe  and  a  plug  of  tobacco,  began  slowly  cut- 
ting up  and  crumbling  the  latter — the  usual 
frontier  preliminaries  to  a  smoke. 

I  watched  his  movements  with  absorbing 
interest.  He  reminded  me  so  forcibly  of  pic- 
tures of  the  lamented  John  Brown,  that  I  was 


244  A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN. 

more  than  ever  inclined  to  accept  the  "  singu- 
lar conflicting  conditions  of  that  martyr's  soul 
and  body,"  as  exemplified  in  the  popular 
song. 

When  he  had  finally  lighted  his  pipe  and 
emitted  several  curling  rings  of  smoke,  this 
singular  figure  vouchsafed  the  information 
that  he  had  come  across  country  in  the  hope 
of  assisting  us  in  shearing.  I  informed  him 
that  we  had  just  finished  that  day  for  the  sea- 
son. He  seemed  to  experience  some  regret  at 
this,  and  for  a  time  smoked  on  in  silence.  At 
length,  his  eyes  happening  to  fall  upon  my 
relinquished  volume,  he  took  it  up,  glanced 
over  it  hastily,  and  laid  it  down  again. 

"You  have  been  reading  Macaulay?"  he 
said.  I  assented  in  some  surprise. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  my  strange  guest,-  "  A  wonder- 
ful man  !  a  wonderful  man,  that  same  Mac- 
aulay! What  a  genius,  what  learning,  what  a 
noble  style  he  had,  to  be  sure  !  " 

Then  throwing  his  head  back  and  narrowing 
his  wild  eyes,  he  suddenly  broke  out : 

"  '  An  acre  in  Middlesex  is  worth  a  principal- 
ity in  Utopia;  the  smallest  actual  good  is 
better  than  the  most  magnificent  promises  of 


A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN.  245 

impossibilities;  the  wise  man  of  the  Stoics 
would,  no  doubt,  be  a  grander  object  than  a 
steam  engine.  But  there  are  steam  engines. 
And  the  wise  man  of  the  Stoics  is  yet  to  be 
born.  A  philosophy  which  should  enable  a 
man  to  feel  perfectly  happy  when  in  agonies  of 
pain  may  be  better  than  a  philosophy  that  can 
assuage  pain.  But  we  know  that  there  are 
remedies  that  will  assuage  pain ;  and  we  know 
that  the  ancient  sages  liked  the  toothache  as 
little  as  their  neighbors.'  " 

I  sat  up  at  this  effort  of  memory  in  some 
amazement.  For  the  past  three  months,  hav- 
ing associated  with  individuals  whose  vocabu- 
laries hardly  ventured  beyond  the  possibilities 
of  "right  smart"  and  "away  over  yonder," 
I  was  somewhat  startled,  I  admit. 

"Are  you  a  native  of  the  state,  sir?  "  I  asked 
with  great  respect. 

"  No,"  replied  he,  turning  full  upon  me  for 
an  instant  those  singular  eyes  of  his, — "  I  am, 
like  yourself,  a  Northerner." 

"  Let  me  offer  you  a  better  pipe,"  I  said, 
pointing  out  to  him  the  case  containing  my 
best  meerschaum.  "You  will  find  some  excel- 
lent '  Cavendish  '  in  that  jar," 


246  A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN. 

He  gave  me  a  quick  glance,  as  if  apprecia- 
tive of  my  hospitality,  but  declined,  saying 
that  long  habit  had  given  him  a  preference  for 
the  natural  leaf. 

"What  is  your  college?"  he  suddenly 
asked,  as  I  was  filling  a  pipe  preparatory  to 
joining  him. 

"Yale,"  I  answered  with  the  pardonable 
pride  of  all  sons  of  that  alma  mater, — and 
yours  ?  " 

"  I  seldom  mistake  a  collegian,"  remarked 
my  incongruous  visitor —  "  '  Infandum,  Re- 
gina,jubes  renovare  dolor  em!  I  hail  from  Dart- 
mouth." 

I  had  made  the  inquiry  more  from  politeness 
than  any  other  motive,  and  yet,  at  the  moment 
of  my  speaking,  it  flashed  across  me  that  he 
must  be  college-bred.  Now  that  I  was  assured 
of  it,  I  felt  a  sincere  regret  in  seeing  one  who 
had  enjoyed  such  advantages,  at  such  wretched 
odds  with  fortune.  He  must  have  divined 
what  passed  through  my  mind,  for  he  glanced 
hurriedly — and  half  sadly,  as  it  seemed  to  me — 
over  his  forlorn  garments,  and  then  raising  his 
eyes  to  mine,  and  with  a  gleam  of  humor  lurk- 
ing beneath  his  shaggy  brows,  said, 


A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN.  247 

"  And,  pray,  sir,  how  came  a  gentleman  of 
your  education  and  intelligence  down  in  this 
God-forsaken  country?" 

I  smiled,  and  attributed  my  advent  to  the 
adventurous  spirit  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
for  want  of  a  better  reason.  He  took  my 
answer  in  the  spirit  in  which  it  was  given,  and 
appeared  in  a  sense  to  be  relieved  by  it,  as  if 
it  established  a  bond  of  union  between  us,  it 
struck  me.  But  he  resisted  all  inquiries  of 
mine  into  his  antecedents  or  past  history,  meet- 
ing my  hints  and  questions  with  adroit  evasion 
and  skillful  changes  of  the  subject. 

And  so,  in  the  quiet  night — for  the  rain  had 
now  ceased,  and  the  moon,  riding  high,  silvered 
the  wan  landscape,  and  fringed  the  dripping 
foliage  with  flashing  gems — we  drifted  back  to 
the  topic  with  which  we  began  and  talked  of 
literary  themes.  It  has  been  my  privilege  to 
converse  with  not  a  few  cultured  and  learned 
men,  and  to  enjoy  the  society  of  some  of  the 
most  brilliant  of  modern  conversationalists,  but 
as  I  sat  and  listened  that  evening  to  the  words 
that  fell  from  the  lips  of  this  frontier  bohemian, 
it  seemed  to  me  that  my  acquaintance  with  the 
nature  of  true  eloquence  had  just  begun.  It 


248  A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN. 

was  "like  reading  Homer  by  flashes  of  light- 
ning." What  a  wealth  of  bold  imagery,  of 
keen  appreciation,  of  suggestive  analogy,  of 
marvelous  insight  was  there !  And  what  a 
treasure  house  of  memory !  And  when  he 
finally  lapsed  into  monologue,  and  indulging 
in  a  rhapsody  upon  the  wonders  of  Milton, 
quoted  from  "  Paradise  Lost "  by  paragraph 
and  page,  I  thought  of  Macaulay's  boast  that 
if  the  great  poet's  immortal  epic  should  by  any 
chance  be  lost  to  men,  he  might  hope  to  re- 
produce it ;  and  my  admiration  for  the  attain- 
ments of  the  man  swept  over  me  in  one  vast 
wave  of  wonder.  And  then,  as  I  lay  there, 
listening  to  his  deep  voice  which  had  grown 
singularly  rich  and  sonorous,  as  if  in  sympathy 
with  the  dignity  of  those  grand  periods,  pon- 
dering what  strange  chance  or  force  of  circum- 
stance had  compelled  this  incongruous  being 
to  such  surroundings,  his  form  suddenly  dilated, 
his  lips  parted  as  if  in  terror,  his  eyes  became 
fixed  on  vacancy  and  staring,  and  with  a  sudden 
spring  to  his  feet,  he  stood  erect  and  menacing. 
"  Avaunt !  "  he  cried,  gazing  with  a  wild  and 
frenzied  stare  into  the  empty  air, — "  Avaunt ! 
and  quit  my  sight !  Begone,  I  say  !  Think'st 


A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN.  249 

thou  to  dog  my  footsteps  always  ?  To  hound 
me  to  the  day  of  my  d£ath  ?  Back  !  Back ! 
G-r-r-rhr !  Take  your  grip  from  off  my  neck  ! 
A vaunt ! " 

He  dashed  his  hands  to  his  throat,  clutching 
it  wildly,  and  striding  to  the  door,  flung  it  wide 
open,  glaring  long  and  fiercely  out  into  the 
quiet  night  with  a  frenzied  and  hunted  expres- 
sion. Then  he  came  slowly  back  to  the  table, 
tottering  feebly  and  muttering  incoherently, 
threw  himself  into  his  chair,  and  covering  his 
haggard  face  with  both  his  trembling  hands, 
shuddered  and  gasped  alternately.  Great  beads 
of  agony  stood  upon  his  brow. 

I  was  so  startled  by  this  sudden  outburst 
that  I  could  only  stare  and  sit  speechless.  When 
he  first  rose  I  was  under  the  impression  that  it 
was  to  give  greater  force  to  some  terrific  denun- 
ciation. Not  until  he  tore  open  the  door 
did  I  realize  that  it  was  the  hallucination  of 
illness,  and  even  then  my  consternation  was  so 
great  as  to  deprive  me  of  all  power  to  act  or 
speak. 

The  paroxysm  soon  passed.  Meanwhile,  I 
had  poured  some  brandy  into  the  cup  of  my 
pocket-flask,  and  offered  it  to  him.  He  drank 


250  A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN. 

it  with  a  feverish  eagerness.  By  degrees  the 
stimulant  seemed  to  overcome  his  nervous  ap- 
prehension. He  sat  for  a  long  time  with 
listless,  leaden  eyes.  Then  he  rose  wearily  and 
asked,  in  a  humble,  deprecating  fashion,  if  there 
were  any  place  where  he  might  sleep  that  night. 

There  was  something  so  piteous,  so  unutter- 
ably wretched  in  this  appeal,  coming  from  one 
whose  wonderful  discourse  had  so  delighted  me, 
that  I  was  indescribably  touched.  "  Surely," 
said  I  to  myself,  "  such  abilities  as  I  have  recog- 
nized this  night  shall  not  be  without  shelter." 
I  instantly  placed  my  bed  at  his  disposal.  After 
much  remonstrance  and  reluctance,  I,  at  last, 
got  him  to  bed,  and  he  laid  himself  down  with 
a  long,  low,  agonizing  sigh — the  sigh  of  one  to 
whom  life  is  weariness  and  existence  a  burden. 

As  I  stepped  to  the  table  near  which  he  had 
been  sitting,  I  observed  a  small  tin  box,  some- 
thing like  a  tobacco-box,  lying  in  his  empty 
chair.  I  picked  it  up  mechanically.  Such  a 
singular  odor  rose  from  this  box  that  I  was 
tempted  to  open  it  almost  unconsciously.  It 
was  half  full  of  a  grayish  brown  drug.  I  ex- 
amined it  curiously.  Opiiim  ! 

I  glanced   toward   the  bed.     He  was  lying 


A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN,  251 

apparently  in  a  heavy  sleep.  I  closed  the  lid 
of  the  box  and  placed  it  quietly  beside  him. 
Full  of  conjecture  for  the  past  of  the  unfortu- 
nate being  who  occupied  my  bed,  I  wrapped 
myself  in  my  blanket  and  lay  down  beneath 
the  window.  There  was  no  sound  in  the  quiet 
night  save  the  occasional  long  howl  of  the 
coyote  from  the  hill.  For  a  long  time  I  lay 
awake,  pondering  over  the  singular  conversation 
of  the  evening  and  its  startling  denouement.  I 
wondered  if  his  hallucination  could  be  directly 
traced  to  opium,  and  what  strange  misfortune 
could  have  placed  him  under  the  thrall  of  the 
deadly  drug.  And  then  my  thoughts  recurred 
to  his  quotation  from  Macaulay — "  But  we  know 
that  there  are  remedies  that  will  assuage  pain." 
What  was  the  pain,  or  what  the  sorrow  ? 

Unconsciously  in  my  long  reverie  I  had 
turned  toward  him.  He  was  sleeping  peace- 
fully in  the  wan  light.  The  pale  moon,  looking 
coyly  over  the  crest  of  a  western  divide,  stole 
through  the  files  of  sentinel  mesquites  in  a  long 
pencil,  and  rested  like  a  ghostly  arm  upon  his 
breast.  I  thought,  "  The  sister  of  Apollo  has 
him  in  her  keeping;"  arrd  I  fell  asleep.  But 
in  the  morning,  the  hands  folded  upon  the 


252  A  FRONTIER  BOHEMIAN. 

breast  were  pulseless  and  cold ;  the  face  was 
waxen  and  still ;  and,  hushed  in  the  fearful 
calm  of  life's  great  mystery,  the  old  man  eloquent 
was  dead. 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY. 


THE  times  were  hard  at  Brady  City.  Never 
within  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant, 
it  appeared,  had  there  been  so  little  doing. 
From  the  briefless  office  of  Judge  Natchez — the 
legal  luminary  of  the  Concho  Circuit — to  the 
editorial  sanctum  of  the  "Weekly  Bugle," 
the  universal  criticism  was  that  of  commer- 
cial inactivity  and  financial  dullness.  "A 
disheartening  paralysis  of  the  local  indus- 
tries, attended  with  a  most  deplorable  sus- 
pension of  home  credit,  is  epidemic  in  our 
midst,"  wrote  the  gifted  editor  of  the  latter 
journal,  in  that  inflated  rhetoric  with  which  its 
readers  were  familiar.  As  it  was  known  that  the 
editorial  signature,  in  common  with  those  of  all 
former  bibulous  patrons,  had  been  recently 
erased  from  the  credit-slate  of  the  "  Morning  Call 
Saloon, "this  melancholy  comment  was  currently 
supposed  to  have  a  narrower  personal  bearing. 


254     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRA&Y. 

But  of  the  truth  of  the  editorial  dictum  there 
was  no  question.  The  five  small  shops  which 
comprised  the  "  local  industries"  of  the  rising 
town  of  Brady  wore  an  air  of  abandonment 
and  desertion.  There  was  an  unwonted  gloom 
at  the  saddlery,  and  an  atmosphere  of  neglect 
about  the  two  groceries  that  ministered  to  the 
famished  capacities  of  its  citizens.  The  musical 
clink  of  the  blacksmith's  anvil  was  rare  and 
intermittent.  Even  the  judgment  of  Mr.  James 
Wily,  that  keen  student  of  frontier  taste  and 
character,  was  at  last  in  error.  The  attractive 
edifice  which,  in  the  interests  of  his  profession 
and  a  refined  aesthetic  taste,  he  had  reared  to  the 
goddess,  Chance,  stood  closed  and  untenanted. 
The  fascinating  wheel  of  fortune,  that  had  so 
delusively  lured  the  ingenuous  sympathies  and 
hard-earned  dollars  of  the  inhabitants  of  Brady 
in  the  pursuit  of  suddenly  acquired  wealth,  with- 
held its  customary  whirl.  The  seductive  billiard 
table,  brilliant  with  mahogany  and  mother  of 
pearl,  that  had  once  proved  so  irresistible  to 
the  casual  visitor,  stood  draped  and  silent  before 
the  gilded  bar,  and  affected  the  disconsolate 
proprietor  as  might  the  presence  of  an  enshroud- 
ed corpse.  And  the  ruined  speculator  him- 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRADY.     255 

self — after  many  efforts  to  alleviate  matters  by 
a  judicious  display  of  "  free  lunches  and  fancy 
drinks"  in  his  palace — was  constrained  to 
abandon  the  scene  of  his  financial  losses  with  a 
depleted  pocket-book  and  a  damaged  reputation. 
It  will  be  seen,  too,  that  this  commercial  stag- 
nation was  alleged  to  have  its  origin  in  social 
reform.  Brady  City  had  recently  experienced 
a  temperance  revival.  The  wave  of  popular  en- 
thusiasm that  had  borne  the  most  prominent 
of  its  citizens  out  of  the  depths  of  alcoholic 
melancholia  into  the  shoals  of  "  Total  Absti- 
nence," had  passed  on  to  other,  and,  haply,  more 
urgent  towns,  leaving  behind  it  the  prosaic 
record  of  regretted  pledges,  broken  vows,  and 
the  disorganized  nerves  and  irritable  tempers 
that  attest  the  despotism  of  undue  stimulation. 
The  last  "  horrible  example "  removed  from 
their  midst ;  the  pleading  eloquence  of  the  re- 
claimed inebriate  no  longer  urging  them  by 
precept  and  a  brass-band ;  Brady  City  was  ex- 
periencing the  pangs  of  regret,  and  the  dangers 
of  reaction.  A  feeling,  that  the  recent  step 
toward  moral  regeneration  had  been  hasty  and 
ill-considered,  was  beginning  to  possess  the 
despondent  community. 


256     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRADY. 

"  Many  things  contributed  to  bring  about  this 
yer  disgraceful  state  of  things ;  "  apologetically 
explained  Jed  Smalley,  a  reclaimed  votary  of 
Bacchus,  to  the  astounded  stage-driver  who  had 
stopped  at  the  "  Hotel "  for  his  customary 
refreshment — "  they  jest  ketched  us  between 
sheriff  elections  and  snake  stirrin'  in  the  spring. 
They  wasn't  any  votin'  to  be  done  ;  the  rattlers 
was  all  under  ground ;  thet  mistake  o'  the  bar- 
keeper of  the  *  Two  Brothers,'  along  o'  confusin' 
powdered  sugar  for  cocktails  writh  the  strickenine 
he  bought  for  killin'  coyotes,  hed  a  depressin' 
effect  on  the  old  soakers ;  an'  altogether  Brady 
whisky  seemed  to  be  a  drug  in  the  market. 
Then  ole  Joe  Ferguson  he  'had  'em  agin','  and 
was  liable  to  be  took  bad  reg'lar  and  afore 
folks,  and  them  temperance  sharps,  they  jest 
ketched  onter  him  to  onct  as  a  shinin'  speciment 
of  '  Rum  done  it.'  It  was  too  much  for  the 
boys,  and  this  yer  town  hez  been  de-looged  and 
drown-dfo/  with  cold  water  ever  sence." 

Nor  was  the  reclaimed  Jedediah  alone  in  his 
despondent  opinion. 

"  I  hold,"  remarked  Jackson  Sands  to  a  travel- 
ing drummer  in  the  rear  room  of  his  grocery, 
tapping  a  large  hogshead  impressively  to  enforce 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRAD  K      257 

his  proposition, — "  thet  a  leetle  o'  this  yer  stuff 
are  pow'ful  in  cementin'  trade  and  strikin'  a 
bargain.  It  war  useless  to  attempt  any  bizness 
on  the  frontier  'ithout  a  nip  now  and  then,  jest 
to  limber  up  like,  the  wheels  of  honest  and 
fa'r  dealin'.  It  stimmerlates  the  acquisition  of 
goods  and  chatties,  and  relieves  the  stringency 
of  the  money  market.  The  bottom  hez  dropt 
out  of  groceries,  my  friend,  sence  the  recent 
crisis." 

The  Sheriff,  also,  who,  in  the  unaccustomed 
leisure  that  had  overtaken  him  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  usually  arduous  duties,  had 
dropped  in  upon  the  proprietor  for  a  short  call, 
added  his  testimony  to  the  general  com- 
mentary. 

"  I  tuck  down  my  six-shooter  from  the  nail 
where  it's  been  hangin'  ever  sence  this  cyclone 
of  cussed  foolishness  concluded  to  strike  this 
yer  unfortunet  settlement,  and  I'm  a  jack-rabbit, 
ef  ther  wasn't  an  inch  o'  rust  and  vardygrease 
all  'round  the  caps.  There  haint  been  a  row  or 
a  spree  for  the  last  month  thet  I've  hed  any 
chance  to  take  a  hand  in.  Even  the  cow-boys 
hev  got  it !  I  was  up  in  Menard  last  week  at  thet 
hangin',  an'  I  stopped  at  Yoho's  ranch. 


258     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY. 

'  Wot's  up?'  sez  I,  observin'  them  engaged  in 
brandin'.  They  hed  a  large  S.  O.  T.  on  the 
side  of  the  nearest  heifer.  I  supposed  they  war 
amusin'  themselves  with  the  critter,  and  I  larfed 
accordin'.  But  I  reckon  ther  wasn't  a  kid 
mor'n  so  high  but  could  hev  kerried  me  back- 
hum  without  a  habus  coppiis  when  they  said 
them  cows  was  now  all  *  Sons  of  Temperance! 
It's  my  opinion,  thet  ef  this  yer  brain-softenin' 
continners,  it's  high  time,  gentlemen,  fur  a 
loonytic  commission  to  set  on  the  inhabitants 
of  this  yer  county." 

Upon  a  community  so  circumstanced  and 
commiserated,  the  darkness  of  a  dreary  spring 
day  was  now  closing  in.  A  northerly  gale  had 
been  working  its  exasperating  will  upon  dis- 
tressed humanity  since  early  morning — rattling 
the  windward  shutters  and  casements,  harrying 
rickety  barns  and  outbuildings,  charging  the 
patient  stock  whose  monotonous  bells  gave  the 
single,  narrow  street  the  ludicrous  suggestion 
of  a  junk  emporium,  and  bullying  the  unfortu- 
nate wayfarer  with  a  pertinacity  that  provoked 
the  usual  profanity. 

And,  indeed,  the  condition  of  the  roads  made 
such  license  not  altogether  unpardonable.  Mud 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRAD  Y.     259 

beset  the  trails  and  choked  the  wheels  of  pro- 
gression throughout  the  Brady  Valley — not  the 
ordinary  complacent  and  self-satisfied  mud  that 
infests  the  highways  in  early  spring — but  an 
uncompromising,  aggressive,  and  ambitious 
mire  that  aspires  to  the  qualities  of  molasses 
and  glue — mud  that  rolls  up  under  the  boots  of 
the  pedestrian  and  demands  recognition — mud 
that  is  determined  to  get  on  in  the  world 
whether  he  does  or  not,  and,  to  that  end,  plays 
perpetual  "  cut  behind  "  with  the  floundering 
legs  of  the  struggling  wayfarer — the  genius  and 
abiding  despotism  of  Mud. 

Supper  was  just  over  at  the  forlorn  "  Hotel  " 
where  the  varied  talent  of  the  little  settlement 
was  wont  to  repair  for  rest  and  refreshment. 
The  weary  lodgers,  having  disposed  of  the  cus- 
tomary ration  of  scorched  " sow-belly"  and 
chrome  yellow  biscuits,  settled  themselves 
about  the  open  fire-place  in  the  "  office,"  which, 
in  the  absence  of  alcoholic  refreshment, 
held  out  a  feeble  and  vicarious  consolation  to 
the  outer  man.  All  chewed  tobacco  and  ex- 
pectorated violently  from  morbid  sympathy. 
A  few  of  the  more  philosophical  took  addi- 
tional refuge  in  smoking.  Indeed  the  prospect 


260     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY. 

was  in  no  sense  cheering  or  exhilarating.  No 
print  or  gayly  colored  lithograph  illuminated 
the  blank  walls  over  which  the  solitary  kerosene 
lamp  shed  a  flickering  and  uncertain  gleam.  A 
leaky  tin  wash-basin  and  frouzy  brush  and 
comb,  that  imposed  upon  the  present  company 
some  semblance  of  the  virtue  of  tidiness,  hung 
as  if  in  faint  protest  upon  the  opposite  wall. 
A  dirty  towel,  bearing  upon  its  face  evidences  of 
undue  familiarity  with  the  features  of  its  last 
patron,  depended  from  a  nail  in  the  corner. 
Meanwhile  the  wind,  increasing  in  fury  with 
the  approach  of  night,  renewed  its  boisterous 
aggression  upon  the  shaky  tenement.  At 
times  a  wayward  gust,  making  a  burglarious  at- 
tempt by  way  of  the  chimney,  swept  down  and 
brightened  the  embers  of  the  fire.  There  it 
surprised  the  most  prominent  of  the  society  of 
Brady.  Four  citizens,  already  alluded  to,  were 
among  those  present — the  Judge,  Jed  Smalley, 
the  Editor,  and  the  Sheriff. 

They  had  been  sitting  around  the  fire  in 
every  attitude  of  complete  and  irremediable 
dejection — the  Editor,  perhaps,  the  most  shat- 
tered and  disconsolate  of  the  group.  They 
were  moody,  peevish,  and  distraught.  The 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY.     261 

subject  of  their  thoughts  and  meditations  was 
the  all-absorbing  but  depressing,  theme  of  Tem- 
perance. 

Every  expedient  within  the  ingenuity  of  the 
circle  had  been  resorted  to,  to  dispel  the  gloom 
to  which  hard  times  and  a  dearth  of  spirits 
conspired.  'Jed  Smalley,  who  had  recently 
returned  from  a  trip  to  Austin,  had  regaled 
his  auditors  with  a  lengthy  description  of 
a  banquet  he  had  attended  where  "there 
was  seven  different  styles  of  drinks — all  settin' 
'round  each  feller's  plate  in  different  colored 
glasses.  And  I  settin'  thar,"  added  Jed,  with 
grim  irony — "  passin'  myself  off  fur  a  temper- 
ance advocate,  and  otherwise  doin'  the  holy 
horror  bizness." 

As  the  staple  liquor  at  Brady  had  been  con- 
fined to  "4<>rod  whisky,"  retailed  in  beer- 
mugs,  a  flattering  appreciation  of  the  phe- 
nomenal character  of  Jed's  forbearance  per- 
vaded his  audience. 

"They's  an  Englisher  down  thar,"  continued 
Jed,  "hez  invented  a  new  kind  o' drink,  he  calls 
a 'pick-me-up  ' — the  vartues  of  which,  after  a 
mild  racket,  they  allow  to  be  tremenjus.  He 
warrants  it  to  lift  a  feller  quietly  out  o'  bed, 


262      THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY 

put  on  his  clothes  fur  him,  and  land  him  down 
stares  with  an  appeytite  fur  breakfast." 

The  astonishing  efficacy  of  this  beverage 
provoked  some  interest  and  curiosity  among 
his  auditors. 

Hereupon,  Judge  Natchez  excited  some  fee. 
ble  merriment  by  ringing  up  the  bilious  pro- 
prietor and  ordering  "  extra  dry  champagne  " 
for  every  body  present  in  a  large  and  munificent 
manner,  and  then  countermanding  his  absent- 
mindedness.  But  even  this  ironical  tribute  to 
a  gilded  past  lost  somehow  its  power  of 
diversion. 

Then  the  conversation  degenerated  into 
personalities. 

"  The  editor  of  the  '  Menard  Boomerang  ' 
allows  that  they  didn't  shet  you  off  'n  yer  licker 
none  too  soon,  Buck,"  said  the  Sheriff,  quietly 
raising  his  eyes  from  the  revolver  he  had  been 
oiling  by  the  light  of  the  fire,  and  addressing 
the  representative  of  the  "  Bugle."  "  He  sez  he's 
seen  traces  of  alcoholic  mane-yer  in  yer  editor- 
ials, ever  sence  thet  '  Snake  Leader '  o'  your'n 
ye  wrote  last  spring." 

As  the  article  alluded  to  was  a  facetious  one 
upon  the  alarming  increase  of  the  rattlesnake 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRAD Y.     263 

in  the  frontier  counties,  the  sarcasm  was  not 
without  its  effect  upon  the  Editor. 

"  Any  one  engaged,  like  thet  Menard  idjit,  in 
editing  waste  paper,  devoted  to  cow-brands  and 
'patent  outsides,'  is  not  morally  or  mentally 
responsible  for  his  vagaries,"  returned  the  jour- 
nalist loftily,  rising  and  knocking  the  ashes 
from  his  pipe,  and  repairing  to  his  overcoat 
with  an  excited,  nervous  manner  that  had 
increased  since  he  had  forsworn  the  "  flowing 
bowl." 

The  eyes  of  the  assembled  company  followed 
him  with  a  singular  fascination  that  could  only 
be  ascribed  to  preconcert  of  some  kind. 

As  the  editorial  hand  plunged  into  a  side- 
pocket,  in  search  of  the  coveted  "  natural  leaf," 
a  huge  rat  sprang  from  its  recesses,  scampered 
across  the  floor,  and  after  several  attempts  to 
escape,  disappeared  in  a  hole  in  the  hearth- 
stone. The  Editor  recoiled  with  an  oath  and 
a  sudden  pallor. 

"  Did  ye  see  thet  rat,  boys !  "  he  exclaimed, 
turning  to  the  group  by  the  fireside  with  tremu- 
lous eagerness. 

"Who  said  anythin'  about  a  rat?  What 
rat?"  returned  various  members  of  the 
company. 


264     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRADY. 

"Why,  thet  rat  thet  jest  jumped  out  o'  my 
pocket  ?  Didn't  ye  see  him  ?  Big  as  a  jack- 
rabbit  and  grayer  than  a  badger — ran  right  over 
those  delicate  feet  of  the  Judge's,"  said  the 
Editor,  endeavoring  to  screen  his  anxiety  under 
the  guise  of  facetiousness. 

"  How  long  is  it,  Buck,  sence  you've  agreed 
to 'touch  not  nor  to  handle'?"  inquired  the 
lawyer  with  a  provoking  wink  at  his  auditors. 

The  journalist's  face  paled  visibly  with 
dreaded  apprehension. 

"Oh!  come  off,  Judge!"  he  returned  rather 
feebly,  and  with  a  restless  hand  clutching  his 
scraggly  beard,  as  he  recognized  the  reluctance 
of  the  rest  of  the  company  to  acknowledge  his 
recent  visitor — "  there  was  a  big  rat  in  my 
pocket — ran  right  over  my  hand  when  I  reached 
down  for  my  plug  o'  terbacker — a  big  feller — 
long  ez  thet  'Deranger'  o'  Jed  Smalley's. 
I  thought  he  hed  me  bit  thar !  Why  what's 
gone  with  you  feller's  eyes?" 

But  here  the  excited  Editor  was  met  by  a 
dry  comment  from  the  practical  Smalley — a 
frontier  philosopher  in  his  way — who  brought 
to  the  settlement  of  every  emergency  the  test 
of  hard  common  sense. 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRAD  Y.      265 

"Wotever's  gone  with  'em,  Buck,  we'd  be 
certingly  better  off  without  any,  than  to  be 
fashionin'  stray  snakes,  an'  rats,  and  sich  like 
varmin  ez  them  optics  o'  your'n  is  continner'ly 
springin'  on  an  unsuspectin'  community." 

A  roar  of  approval  greeted  this  sally.  Where- 
upon the  man  of  letters — deserted  by  his 
assembled  companions,  and  despairing  of  sup- 
port— turned  a  sharp  corner. 

"Well,  you  fellers  are  mighty  easy  taken  in," 
he  said,  forcing  a  ghastly  grin  upon  his  pallid 
countenance.  "  Did  ye  reckon  I  really  did  see 
anythin  '  ?  I  was  foolin'  yer.  Ther  wasn't  any 
rat !  " 

Whereat  a  chorus  of  laughter  so  loud,  so 
shrill,  so  derisive,  and  sardonic,  disclosed  the 
poverty  of  the  subterfuge,  and  proclaimed  the 
double  humiliation  of  a  detected  falsehood  and 
a  successful  practical  joke. 

The  company  had  barely  recovered  from  the 
outburst  of  merriment  into  which  the  recent 
incident  had  thrown  them,  when  the  sound  of 
hoof-beats  outside,  and  a  sharp  "  Whoa  !  "  an- 
nounced a  new  arrival.  The  creaking  door 
opened  suddenly,  and  a  tall  figure,  projected  by 
the  roaring  blast  behind  it,  like  a  bolt  from  a 
catapult,  shot  forward  into  the  room, 


266     THE   TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY. 

It  was  a  figure  well  known  in  Brady — the 
broad  shoulders,  sturdy  limbs,  and  strong  feat- 
ures, almost  Semitic  in  their  sallow  thought- 
fulness,  revealed  Ebenezer  Wilkins,  the  most 
popular  ranchman  in  Concho  Co. 

"  Is  thet  you,  *  Snoozer'  ?  "  exclaimed  Judge 
Natchez,  making  use  of  a  popular  parody  upon 
the  new  comer's  Christian  name,  and  shifting 
slightly  upon  the  rough  bench  for  his  accom- 
modation. 

"  What  there  is  left  of  me  ! "  returned  the 
figure,  stalking  gloomily  to  the  fire — "  but  as 
near  as  I  can  get  to  it  without  muscular  profan- 
ity— that  isn't  much  !  Do  you  have  these 
blows  regular  in  Brady,  or  is  this  one  made  to 
order  by  an  outraged  Providence  for  a  town 
where  an  honest  traveler  can't  beg  or  steal  a 
drink?  " 

A  groan  from  the  benches  testified  that  he 
had  struck  a  tender  chord. 

"Well,  how  are  ye,  'Snoozer,'  my  boy?" 
reiterated  the  legal  gentleman,  gracefully  waiv- 
ing the  recent  shaft  and  answering  for  the 
rest.  "We  ain't  sot  eyes  on  you  for  an 
age  ! " 

"About  as  well  as  a  man  can  be  who  hasn't 


THE   TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRADY.     267 

been  on  speakin*  terms  with  his  stomach  for 
the  last  ten  days,"  returned  "  Snoozer"  gloomily, 
bestowing  a  copious  baptism  of  nicotine  and  a 
hypocritical  grimace  upon  the  hissing  coals  by 
way  of  attesting  his  alarming  physical  condi- 
tion. "  I  rather  allowed  to  come  up  here  and 
brace  up  by  a  change  of  diet." 

"  Reckon  ye  won't  get  nothin'  but  sawdust  . 
then,"  returned  the  Sheriff,  who  had  desisted 
from  oiling  his  weapon  and  now  slipped  it  in 
its  holster — "  ye  may  not  know  it,  my  boy,  but 
the  town  of  Brady  is  a  busted  community — a 
reg'lar  stampin'  ground  for  jack-rabbits,  profes- 
sional dead-beats,  and  bummers  !  " 

A  dead  silence  followed  this  scathing  com- 
mentary. 

"  I  learn, "  finally  observed  Mr.  Wilkins — 
punctuating  his  discourse  by  renewed  expec- 
toration upon  the  coals,  expressive  of  a  fine 
contempt — "  thet  a  band  of  escaped  idjits  have 
struck  this  yer  town,  feebly  disguised  as  tem- 
perance reformers  ;  that  the  poppylation  of  this 
village  hez  riz,  and  with  one  fell  swoop  taken 
away  from  an  enlightened  community  the  most 
priceless  gift  of  a  free  and  undivided  republic — 
the  privilege  for  which  our  ancestors  fit,  and 


268     THE   TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY. 

bled,  and  died — the  freedom  and  consolation  of 
the  social  glass  ;  that  the  hull  community  hez 
been  kerflummuxed  by  a  tornado  of  reform, 
and," — he  added  with  withering  sarcasm — 
"  thet  the  only  comfort  left  to  a  white  man 
is  thet  he  is  not  included  among  its  citizens." 

This  severe  arraignment  was  received  by  his 
audience  in  the  same  stony  silence. 

After  a  few  moments  of  pensive  and  gloomy 
meditation,  the  self-constituted  mentor  re- 
sumed : 

"  What  I  hev  just  obsarved  is  '  hearsay '  only, 
and  I  trust  not  to  be  relied  on  by  any  reason- 
in' bein',  but  from  the  general  shiftlessness  of 
this  crowd,"  he  added  darkly,  throwing  his  eyes 
about  him,  "  I  hev  my  suspicions  that  '  Mr.  R. 
E.  Morse  '  hez  been  among  ye." 

"  And  suppose,"  remarked  the  Editor  nerv- 
ously and  avoiding  the  suddenly  concentrated 
gaze  of  his  auditor — "  ye  find  this  yer  report 
to  be  a  fact — what  personal  criticism  hev  you 
got  to  make !  " 

"What  personal  criticism !  "  echoed  "  Snoozer," 
in  unfeigned  disgust — "  none,  sir  ! — none  what- 
ever, sir  !  To  a  community  thus  flyin'  in  the 
face  of  Providence,  and  blightin'  the  breath  o' 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY.     269 

trade,  I  hev  nothin'  to  say.  It's  beyond  me  to 
do  the  subject  justice.  " 

He  rose  to  his  feet  with  a  gesture  of  throwing 
up  a  bad  hand  at  cards. 

"But,"  remarked  the  Editor,  growing  bolder, 
as  if  inspired  by  the  sound  of  his  own  voice — 
"suppose  the  harm  bein'  done — what  remedy  do 
you  propose  ?  " 

"What  remedy!"  replied  "  Snoozer "  with 
renewed  solemnity,  gazing  thoughtfully  around 
the  dejected  circle,—"  Wai,  a  quiet,  orderly,  and 
thorough  application  of  the  art  of  modern 
suicide  is  abo.ut  the  only  remedy  that  I  allow  to 
quite  fit  the  urgency  of  the  present  crisis. 
When  men  git  thet  beside  themselves  thet  they 
go  to  work  in  cold  blood  to  take  away  the 
blessin's  provided  for  alleviatin'  the  hardships 
of  the  frontier,  there  isn't  but  one  remedy.  Let 
every  man  take  his  six-shooter  and  walk  quietly 
out  of  town  as  ef  he  was  goin'  on  a  little  pasear. 
It  spares  the  town  the  expense  of  onnecessary 
burial,  keeps  the  buzzards  busy,  and  saves  the 
coroner  any  trouble  with  his  verdict." 

"Your  treatment  of  the  situation  is  heroic 
and  self-sacrificing,  but  not  likely  to  become 
popular,"  remarked  the  Editor  with  dignity. 


2 70     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY. 

"  The  suggestion  which  we  require  from  you  is 
something  that  will  alleviate  the  present  des- 
pondency." 

"  Well  then,  I  should  think  a  ball — a  real, 
live  temperance  ball — one  of  them  soul-stirrin', 
maddenin',  dissipated  'tears',  with  refresh- 
ments of  hard  tack  and  '  lemming  soda',  is  about 
what  you  require,"  said  "  Snoozer"  with  ill- 
concealed  sarcasm.  "  And  I  trust  you  may  all 
hev  the  strength  o'  soul  to  resist  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  occasion,"  he  added  with  gloomy 
irony. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  Judge,  turning  to  the 
company  suddenly  with  that  persuasive  and 
convincing  manner  which  was  so  telling  with 
local  juries — "your  floor-manager  presents  you 
his  good  wishes  for  the  coming  festivity." 

And  even  by  this  subtle  stroke  was  the  proj- 
ect started,  and  amid  deafening  cheers  and  the 
wildest  enthusiasm,  the  Temperance  Ball  at 
Brady  was  successfully  inaugurated. 

Late  that  night,  after  much  exciting  discus- 
sion and  comment,  Mr.  Wilkins  drew  the 
Sheriff  into  a  side-room — it  having  been  decided 
that  this  officer  should  act  as  his  assistant  in 
the  duties  of  floor-manager — and  pinning  that 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY.   271 

small  individual  against  the  wall  in  the  grasp 
of  his  muscular  hand,  addressed  him  in  a 
sepulchral  whisper. 

"  Ike  Mosely,  have  you  been  fool  enough  to 
sign  this  yer  pledge  ?  " 

"  Look  a-here  !  "  retorted  the  Sheriff,  writhing 
in  the  gripe  of  his  co-laborer  ; — "  how  long  hev 
I  been  sheriff  o'  this  yer  town  and  county  ?  " 

"Three years,  I  reckon." 

"  And  what's  my  record  ?  " 

"  Bang  up !  " 

"  Wai  then,  do  you  reckon  thet  the  feller  thet 
walked  in  on  Jim  White  in  the  back  room  of 
the  '  Two  Brothers/  down  at  Saby,  an'  tuck  his 
six-shooters  away  from  him,  an'  waltzed  him 
into  the  county  jail  without  eny  possy,  done 
thet  on  vichy  or  salser  apparent  ?  Do  ye  sup- 
pose thet  when  I  raided  Jim  Wily's  '  monte 
game '  in  the  ( Blue  Goose  Saloon,'  I  went 
into  trainin'  aforehand  on  cold  water  an'  sponge 
bathin'  to  git  my  narves  steady?  No,  sir! 
How  do  you  reckon  I  done  them  things?  Wai, 
I  allow  thet  two-thirds  was  grit,  but  the  other 
third, '  Snoozer, '  was — whisky." 

"  All  right !  "  said  Mr.  Wilkins  with  a  sigh  of 
relief,  producing  a  large  wicker-flask  which  he 


272     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRADY. 

uncorked  and  handed  silently  to  his  companion. 
"Here's  suthin'  I  laid  in  over  to  the  ranch 
last  year,  when  I  was  down  in  Austin,  because 
I  anticipated  a  liquor  famine.  It's  prime  mess, 
Ike.  Drink  hearty,  and  success  to  the  '  Tem- 
perance Ball'." 

As  if  encouraged  by  the  prospective  festivity, 
a  new  era  dawned  upon  Brady  City.  That 
night,  the  boisterous  wind  that  had  bedeviled 
the  settlement  intermittently  for  a  fortnight, 
was  stricken  into  a  bewildered  awe  and  quiet. 
In  that  suddenly  capricious  climate,  the  sun,  so 
long  withheld,  rose  smilingly  the  next  morn- 
ing upon  the  level  plains,  and  looked  down 
benignly  from  an  azure  and  cloudless  heaven. 
The  bare  branches  of  mesquite,  but  thinly  veiled 
in  green,  exhaled  a  faint  odor,  and  the  humbler 
vegetation  raised  its  tendrils  appealingly  in  the 
breathless  air.  In  the  quiet,  serene  atmosphere 
— all  athrob  with  the  warm  pulses  of  the  com- 
ing spring — nature  lay  as  if  adream  in  the 
trembling  hope  of  resurrection,  and  basked  in 
blissful  and  ineffable  calm. 

Jed  Smalley  appears  to  have  faintly  realized 
this  and  delivered  himself  accordingly. 

''It's  jest  for  all  the  world,  as  ef  nature  had 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRADY.     273 

been  on  a  '  bender  '  for  the  past  three  weeks, 
and  had  ended  up  with  a  quiet  '.tf ///,"' he 
remarked  to  Judge  Natchez  with  tender  and 
regretful  alcoholic  reminiscence. 

The  effect  upon  the  editor  of  the  "  Weekly 
Bugle  "  was  radically  different.  His  rejuvenated 
emotions  took  refuge  in  the  composition  of 
unusually  metrical  prose. 

"  Muse  of  the  many  twinkling  feet !  whose 
charms  have  filled  our  citizens  with  soft  alarms  ; 
Terpsichore  !  for  thee,  at  length,  we're  ready, 
and  earnestly  invite  you  up  to  Brady," — 
began  a  subsequent  ambitious  editorial,  hold- 
ing in  dangerous  proximity  the  genius  of 
Byron  and  Blivins. 

"  In  testimony  of  the  renewed  prosperity 
which  has  resulted  from  the  temperance  move- 
ment in  our  thriving  community,"  continued 
that  article,  with  a  mendacity  intended  for 
its  effect  upon  neighboring  frontier  towns? 
"  it  has  been  decided  to  hold  a  temper- 
ance ball  in  the  Pavilion  built  by  the  gen- 
erous hand  of  our  respected  townsman,  Mr. 
James  Wily,  and  dedicated  to  the  entertain- 
ment of  his  fellow  citizens.  As  it  is  intended' 
that  this  brilliant  affair  of  the  frontier  season 


274     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY. 

shall  be  characterized  by  unusual  decorum, 
cow-boys  and  sheep-men  are  requested  not  to 
present  themselves  in  any  other  disguise  than 
that  of  sobriety.  No  liquor  will  be  sold  on  the 
premises,  and  gentlemen  will  be  expected  not 
to  smoke  on  the  floor  of  the  ball-room  as 
formerly.  It  is  announced  by  Mr.  Ebenezer 
Wilkins  and  Mr.  Ike  Mosely,  floor-managers, 
that  they  have  in  preparation  a  beverage  of 
their  own  decoction  known  as  '  Temperance 
Mead,'  which  will  sufficiently  allay  thirst.  The 
well-known  ability  of  these  gentlemen  is  a  suf- 
ficient guaranty  for  the  perfection  of  the 
arrangements.  The  Brady  Post  brass  band 
has  been  engaged  for  the  occasion." 

The  immediate  effect  of  this  extravagant 
editorial  appears  to  have  been  palliative  of  the 
falsehood  with  which  it  began.  It  was  in  a 
sense  prophetic.  The  announcement  of  a 
"  ball  "  upon  the  frontier  is,  at  all  times,  danger- 
ous to  the  live-stock  interests.  But  a  "  tem- 
perance ball  "  was  entirely  subversive  of  all 
order  and  business  method.  It  was  more  than 
a  novelty  ;  it  was  a  phenomenon  ;  and  it  pro- 
voked the  wildest  excitement.  Had  an  earth- 
quake visited  the  "  ranges  "  and  "  ranches " 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRADY.     275 

of  the  plains,  they  could  not  have  been  left 
more  desolate  of  humanity.  Sheep  were  left 
to  roam  recklessly  abroad  without  their  herd- 
ers ;  the  cattle  "  drifted  "  free.  For  scores  of 
miles  around,  men  poured  into  Brady  City  on 
horseback.  But  business,  in  consequence  of 
this  sudden  irruption  of  custom,  fairly  boomed. 
And  the  cause  of  this  absurd  recklessness  and 
foolish  abandonment  of  capital  was  woman — , 
lovely  woman  ! — an  exotic  upon  the  frontier. 

The  night  of  the  ball  had  come.  The 
"  Wily  Pavilion  "  was  a  blaze  of  light.  Within, 
the  Brady  Post  band — consisting  of  four  brass 
pieces — in  all  the  pageantry  of  faded  military 
facings  and  burnished  instruments,  glowed  from 
the  height  of  a  small,  elevated  platform  upon 
the  numerous  assemblage,  and  their  leader — 
a  small,  red-faced  man — glowed  also,  but  in 
scarlet  rivalry  of  his  orchestra,  and  wiped  his 
fevered  brow.  Without,  through  the  dark  and 
gloomy  night,  a  large  "prairie-schooner"  con- 
veyed, by  oft  repeated  trips,  the  fair  ones  of  the 
village  from  their  respective  habitations  to  the 
chance-consecrated  bower  of  this  frontier  Terp- 
sichore. Already  some  of  the  most  celebrated 
had  arrived.  Seated  upon  the  uncushioned 


276     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY. 

benches  in  a  remote  corner  of  the  ball-room — 
as  yet  unvisited  by  the  fascinating  but  disquiet- 
ing members  of  a  dangerous  sex — they  lingered 
an  eager  and  fluttering  bevy,  and  were  as  criti- 
cal and  communicative  behind  their  fans,  and 
withal  as  deadly  in  their  way,  as  the  aggressive 
contingent  opposite,  which,  heavily  spurred 
and  revolver-belted,  awaited  in  solemn  and 
awkward  expectancy  the  signal  for  the  ball  to 
begin. 

In  the  midst  of  this  blooming  parterre,  Miss 
Penelope  Natchez,  the  youthful  but  irresistible 
daughter  of  the  accomplished  Judge — already 
a  terrific  heart-breaker  among  these  equestrian 
gallants — lifted  her  head  coyly,  like  a  wild 
verbena  among  more  advanced  and  complacent 
Texan  flora.  It  was  her  first  ball.  Miss 
"Flo"  Brooks,  intrenched  neatly  and  simply 
in  a  Galveston  toilet,  darted  superb  defiance 
with  feminine  intuition  of  a  possible  future 
rival.  And  Miss  Clorinda  Stebbins,  outrageous 
and  overpowering  in  green  and  pink,  bristled 
with  envy  of  both,  like  an  extravagant  prickly 
pear. 

Outside  the  gleaming  Pavilion,  while  all 
was  thus  astir  with  expectation  within,  two 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRADY.    277 

men  were  standing  near  an  unfinished  rear- 
gallery  engaged  in  conversation. 

"What's  gone  with  you,  'Snoozer'?  "  said 
the  voice  of  Ike  Mosely.  "Ye  don't  reckon  to 
peg  out,  do  yer  ?  What  do  ye  mean  by  sayin* 
ye'll  stay  out  here  ?  " 

"  Shoosh !  "  replied  another  voice,  unmis- 
takable in  spite  of  its  disguise.  "  Ish  besher 
off  here  !  Shee  besher,  tell  ye !  Danshin'  ! 
Moosick  !  Ike !  tell  'em  I'm  sick — shuddenly 
ill !  Don't  shay  anythin'  'bowsh  '  temperansh 
mead  '  !  Ike  !  I sh-a-y,  I-ke  !  " 

But  Ike  Mosely  was  off  with  an  oath  of 
disgust. 

Into  the  room,  heeling  heavily  to  leeward 
like  a  diminutive  ship  in  a  heavy  gale,  rushed 
the  Sheriff.  Passing  rapidly  to  the  foot  of  the 
band-stand,  he  spoke  hurriedly  to  the  leader  and 
wheeled  rapidly  upon  the  audience. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  began,  bringing 
down  his  flat  hand  upon  the  platform,  as  if  to 
'take  it  in  charge' — "Mr.  'Snoozer*  Wilkins 
bein'  sick  and  outside — tuck  sudden  and  im- 
mejet,  ye  understand — hez  depootized  me  to 
start  this  thing,  an'  I  hereby  does  it."  Then 
smiling  blandly,  bending  forward  like  a  man 


278     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY, 

about  to  take  a  fatal  plunge,  and  waving  his 
hands  with  a  sudden  spread-eagle  accompani- 
ment, 

"  In  the  name  of  Concho  Co.  and  the  Lone 
Star  State,  this  Temperance  Ball  is  declared 
open." 

The  ball  opened  forthwith. 

How,  and  with  whom  the  partners  danced  ; 
what  strange  steps  were  cut  by  the  men  whose 
waltzing  at  times  resembled  that  of  jerky  and 
disorganized  marionettes ;  how  elaborate  were 
the  curtsies  of  the  ladies,  and  with  what  grace 
and  universal  self-denial  they  accepted  the 
Terpsichorean  advances  of  every  careering 
Centaur,  I  omit  from  diffidence,  but  not  without 
regret.  An  instantaneous  photograph  alone 
could  fitly  portray  the  highly  thrilling  scene. 
I  omit  also  with  equal  delicacy,  how  Mr. 
"  Snoozer  "  Wilkins,  in  his  efforts  to  adequately 
realize  the  gayety  within,  succeeded  in  falling 
through  the  flooring  of  the  unfinished  gallery 
in  the  rear,  and,  being  plucked  therefrom  by 
eager  and  sympathetic  hands — after  turning 
around  several  times  gravely  upon  the  floor  of 
the  ball-room  as  if  to  get  his  bearings,  and  ex- 
hibiting thereby  an  elaborate  assortment  of 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRAD  Y.    279 

shavings  and  sawdust  acquired  in  his  descent — 
bore  down  finally  upon  Mrs.  Judge  Treddle  and 
waltzed  with  her  with  a  preoccupation  of  man- 
ner that  dignified  the  action  as  a  serious  business 
pursuit. 

After  this  the  "  temperance  mead  "  was  an- 
nounced— supper  being  politely  overlooked 
with  customary  frontier  forgetfulness. 

That  the  ladies  declared  against  this  beverage 
from  the  first,  sniffed  at  it,  and  rejected  it,  is 
beyond  question.  That  the  men  hailed  it,  and 
partook,  as  if  it  were  the  ambrosia  of  the  gods, 
is  equally  indisputable.  But  that,  having  so 
hailed  it,  and  so  partaken,  they  eventually 
yielded  to  its  insidious  influences,  was  also  soon 
apparent. 

At  this  point  Miss  Flo  Brooks  declared  to 
her  neighbor  that  she  "  reckoned  there  was 
something  in  that  mead  "  from  the  first,  but  when 
Buck  Blivins  asked  her  for  the  fifth  time  that 
evening  to  marry  him,  entirely  ignoring  the 
near  presence  of  Mrs.  Blivins  herself,  and 
within  easy  hearing  of  two  other  highly  appre- 
ciative young  ladies,  she  was  "  quite  sure  of 
it." 

Miss  Clorinda  Stebbins  hereupon  requested 


280     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY. 

her  stepfather — who  was  attempting  a  frontier 
can-can  with  "  Kickapoo  Dick" — to  take  her 
home  at  once — with  which  request,  my  knowl- 
edge of  that  gentleman  in  convivial  matters 
compels  me  to  record  that  he  was  loth  to  com- 
ply. And  when  Mr.  Rube  Smart  absently  drew 
his  "  six-shooter  "  from  his  belt  and  shot  out  the 
top  light  in  the  ball-room,  the  entire  feminine 
bevy  agreed  with  Miss  Brooks. 

But  if  diffidence  restrainsme  from  detailingthe 
early  events  of  that  memorable  evening,  how 
can  I  bring  myself  to  paint  the  developments 
after  the  ladies  had  retired.  Indeed  the  pro- 
ceedings were  of  so  hearty  and  sincere  a  charac- 
ter that  I  deemed  it  wise  myself  to  retire  at  an 
early  hour.  And  if  I  may  judge  from  the  per- 
forated exterior  of  the  whilom  abode  of  Chance 
the  next  morning,  and  the  suggestive  confusion 
that  reigned  within,  there  was  a  commendable 
prudence  in  my  decision,  to  say  the  least.  I 
am  assured,  however,  by  a  friend,  who  was  not 
so  prudent,  and  who  points  with  singular  pride 
to  a  bullet-wound  indicative  of  the  effect 
of  "  temperance  mead "  upon  a  frank  and 
demonstrative  nature,  that  there  was  a 
candor  and  directness  about  the  festivities 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY.    281 

which,  in  frontier  life,  I  have  witnessed  on  other 
less  noteworthy  occasions.  There  appears  to 
have  been  an  impression  at  first  that  the  musi- 
cians had  not  reached  that  point  of  exaltation 
which  was  deemed  fitting  and"  proper  under  the 
circumstances ;  and  with  the  aid  of  a  gallon  tin 
measure,  repeatedly  filled  and  generously  prof- 
fered, they  succeeded  so  well  in  achieving  that 
point,  that  the  music  grew  fainter  and  fainter, 
until  a  rotund  gentleman,  who  resided  within 
an  equatorial  trumpet,  with  a  general  sugges- 
tion of  encircling  himself  with  melody,  eventu- 
ally succumbed,  and  falling  from  the  platform, 
rolled  upon  the  floor,  where  he  lay  an  interest- 
ing wreck  within  his  brazen  periphery. 

At  this  point  the  music  ceased,  and  deeds 
began.  There  was  a  pleasing  torch-light 
parade — ostensibly  in  derision  of  the  temper- 
ance movement — highly  edifying  to  the  spec- 
tator, and  apparently  enjoyed  by  those  who 
participated.  Certain  groups,  in  remote  cor- 
ners, still  pursued  the  mazes  of  the  dance, 
assisted  evidently  by  some  sublunary  orchestra 
known  only  to  themselves.  And  strolling  list- 
lessly about,  a  few  more  abstracted  and  lonely 
revelers  put  out  an  occasional  lamp  or  lantern 


282     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY. 

with  a  target  practice  that  was  diligent  and  un- 
remitting. 

And  it  was  at  about  this  witching  hour  of  this 
genial  frontier  revel — the  ball-room  being  only 
lighted  by  a  single  sputtering  lamp — that  Mr. 
Buck  Blivins,  leader  of  the  rank  and  file  of  the 
ironical  temperance  column — highly  excited 
and  diffuse  with  his  potations,  encountered  an 
unknown  figure  in  the  dim  light  and  near  the 
doorway.  He  immediately  recoiled  with  a  sur- 
prise that  was  caromed  forcibly  down  the  reel- 
ing line. 

"  Is  thet  you — you  bloomin'  Menard  ink- 
slinger  ?  "  he  inquired,  in  amazement. 

"  I  reckon !  "  came  slyly  from  the  doorway. 

"  Wai,  then,  git  ready,  for  now's  yer  time  to 
be  lookin*  out  fur  traces  o  alcoholic  mane-yer  /  " 

A  feeble  and  wavering  six-shooter  was  in. 
stantly  raised,  and  what  appeared  to  be  an 
effort  to  bombard  both  sides  of  the  Pavilion 
immediately  occurred. 

Its  effect  was  instantaneous.  In  vain  Judge 
Natchez,  with  commendable  courage,  sprang 
toward  the  two  men  with  a  threatening  gesture 
and  a  voice  of  remonstrance.  The  last  light 
vanished,  snuffed  by  a  wandering  bullet  from 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRAD Y.     283 

the  editorial  hand.  Column,  dancers,  and 
strollers,  as  if  by  preconcerted  signal,  sank  to 
the  ground,  and  amid  Stygian  darkness  a  wild 
and  delightfully  indefinite  skirmish  at  once 
began. 

Strange  to  say,  no  one  was  killed.  For  fif- 
teen minutes  there  was  much  shooting,  abund- 
ant smoke,  and  considerable  impotent  effort  to 
improvise  a  barricade  of  empty  benches.  A 
breathless  silence  ensued.  Then  a  general 
stampede — more  or  less  protracted  during  the 
next  half  hour  from  various  emergencies.  But 
that  Providence  which  seems  to  guard  the  in- 
ebriated imbecile  was  present  even  here. 

Several  men  were  seen  around  town  the  next 
morning  with  bandaged  arms  and  halting  limbs. 
For  some  weeks  there  were  a  few  interesting 
invalids  and  crippled  "  transients  "  to  be  seen 
in  the  "  Morning  Call  Saloon,"  which  had  again 
somewhat  hazardously  resumed  its  credit-slate 
to  a  certain  spasmodic  custom.  And  Jed 
Smalley  alleges  that  the  Editor,  whom  he  stum- 
bled over,  crawling  in  crippled  and  serpentine 
picturesqueness  from  the  Pavilion  at  an  early 
hour  of  the  morning,  had  only  one  bullet  hole 
in  his  back,  and  this  he  regarded  as  a  kindly 


284     THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  A  T  BRADY. 

memento  of  the  precautionary  tactics  of  the 
"  Menard  Boomerang." 

But  perhaps  the  true  frontier  attitude  on 
"Total  Abstinence"  was  conveyed  by  Mr. 
James  Wily  in  a  remark  professionally  deliv- 
ered six  weeks  later.  He  had  been  leaning 
over  his  polished  mahogany  bar,  conspicuous 
among  his  highly  gilded  mirrors  and  colored 
glasses  by  the  absence  of  coat  and  collar,  and 
smoking  a  huge  border  Havana  at  an  astro- 
nomical angle  that  probably  indicated  the 
point  to  which  his  fortunes  were  now  tending. 

Below  him  the  polished  ivory  spheres  shot, 
and  smote  one  another  musically.  The  wheel 
of  fortune  had  its  throng  of  worshipers,  and 
about  a  green  table,  ominous  for  certain  paste- 
board studies  in  red  and  black,  was  the  usual 
cluster  of  awe-struck  faces. 

The  eyes  of  the  proprietor  were  speculative 
and  dreamy.  They  were  recalled  to  practical 
considerations  by  the  entrance  of  the  Sheriff. 

"  I'll  allow  ye  don't  reckon  to  interfere  with 
this  satisfactory  state  of  things,  Ike?"  re- 
marked Mr.  Wily,  setting  out  his  largest 
decanter. 

"  Wai,  no  !  p'r'aps  not — seein*  you're  slingin' 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BALL  AT  BRADY.     285 

so  much  style,  and  doin'  sich  a  '  nice,  clean 
business/  "  responded  Mosely  with  a  humor- 
ous twinkle. 

"  What's  become  o'  the  '  Snoozer '  ?  " 
"  Wai,  ye  see,"  said  the  Sheriff,  tossing  off  his 
liquor — "he  hed  so  much  pussonal  attention 
directed  to  him  along  o'  introducin'  thet  tem- 
perance bev'rage  o'  his'n,  an'  bein',  as  it  were, 
laid  out  afore  it  got  in  its  work  on  the  major- 
ity, thet  he's  retired  from  public  life  for  the 
present,  an'  is  herdin'  all  alone  by  hisself  over 
on  the  Big  Brady." 

"  Humph  !  he  needn't  'a'  done  thet !  "  replied 
Mr.  Wily  incredulously — "  I  set  him  down  fur 
bein'  jest  naturally  the  peartest  feller  I've 
struck.  Look  at  them  billiards!  See  thet 
'Monte  lay  out' !  I  tell  you,  Mosely,  it's 
nothin'  short  of  a  miracle,  and  the  only  good  / 
ever  seen  come  out  of  a  temperance  move- 
ment." 


THE  END. 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY ^.FACILITY 


B     000  007  847     7 


